


Someday

by Shadowofthemoon



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: 1963, 1964, A lot of travels, Action, Action & Romance, Angst, Budapest, Canon-Typical Violence, Car Chase, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fanart, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gaby POV mostly, Getting to Know Each Other, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, I'll add some of my fanarts later, Instanbul, Jealous Illya Kuryakin, KGB, Kinda, Napoleon Solo Ships Illya Kuryakin/Gaby Teller, Nazis, POV Third Person, Post-Canon, Post-Movie, Pre-Relationship, Requited Love, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Spy Story, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vienna, Violence, Whump, a lot of locations, angst even for Napoleon, big troubles are coming, dramatic events are coming, gallya, grumpy cinnamon roll Illya, i tried lol, jealous Gaby Teller, nazis are back, poor baby, sassy napoleon, some violences from chapter 4, tons and tons of fluff, very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28230960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowofthemoon/pseuds/Shadowofthemoon
Summary: Budapest March 1964Gaby entered the room, quickly shutting the door behind her. She was still covered in dirt and dried blood. Her white coat stained with red and dark spots. The safe house was dark and cold. Empty. She was still trembling in shock, angry and hurt. The betrayal burned like a flame, consuming her heart. How could this be happening? How? How could she ever let this happen? To him. To her. How could she be so blind?
Relationships: Illya Kuryakin & Gaby Teller, Illya Kuryakin/Gaby Teller
Comments: 44
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language( and I can't speak any Russian or German), so please excuse my mistakes. Thanks to the fantastic Xerxia for being my beta for the first chapter.  
> Thanks to the amazing trenko_heart for helping me with German and correcting all my mistakes.

**Budapest March 1964**

Gaby entered the room, quickly shutting the door behind her. She was still covered in dirt and dried blood. Her white coat stained with red and dark spots. The safe house was dark and cold. Empty. She was still trembling in shock, angry and hurt. The betrayal burned like a flame, consuming her heart. How could this be happening? **How**? How could she ever let this happen? To him. To her. How could she be so blind? She felt so alone, so lost. Her body slipped on the floor, her back leaning against the door. Her body ached and her head was about to explode. She kept thinking about all the events of that awful day, but she was helpless. And then she thought about the past months, all those days spent together, with Solo and Illya around the world. All those little moments, stolen from the work, work that made their lives seem like a big lie. But those moments were real. 

How many things could she have done and said differently? She desperately wanted to turn back time, to relive those moments. To be with him again. She let him slip through her fingers, like sand, unable to keep him safe. Would she ever see him again? Was he still alive?

She felt the tears coming. Holding her knees tightly, she let them run down her face.

“Oh mein Liebster…”

**_Istanbul September 1963_ **

_That day she woke up confused, wondering where she was. They changed locations so many times in such a small amount of time that she was feeling like she had no home anywhere. Not in East Berlin any more, not in London yet._

_After Rome, they had gone to Istanbul. The mission was far easier than the one in Rome. After Nazis with a nuclear bomb, everything else seems almost a holiday. And Istanbul really was the City of spies. They had to collect some information and evidence about Vinciguerra’s organization. The organization was still active, but apparently U.N.C.L.E. was still unable to identify or locate the other members._

_So that was basically their mission, find and destroy this organization, try to avoid the end of the world preferably_ _._ _Again._

_Illya placed his high-tech bugs, spending a large amount of time trying to catch interesting conversations. Napoleon spent most of his time wandering around the city, looking for some contact. He clearly had informants and among them he was certainly the most acquainted of Western spies._

_Gaby attended a concert, and some fancy dinner parties, alone or with Napoleon, in a wonderful black and white Balenciaga dress that Illya picked for her, mainly to watch over some important personalities, and to plant some bugs._

_The parties were boring but full of food and rich people, in very expensive dresses. Sometimes she felt like a modern Cinderella. Straight from a dirty garage to the Dolce Vita. Sometimes she could understand why Solo was so in love with this_ _luxurious and_ _sparkling lifestyle._

_Waverly, their boss, was in the city as well, doing his own personal and super-secret mission. He checked almost everyday on them, but never said a word about his own investigations._

_This time Gaby had a room all for herself. This time each of them had a single room. Strangely that night, back at the hotel after a lavish party at the Italian Embassy, she felt lonely. The room was good, but empty. No Russian giant to mess with, no witty American to talk to. She slipped out of her black Givenchy dress, and put on her blue pajamas. Her insomnia was still there, but that night she felt particularly restless._

_So, emptying the first bottle of vodka, she decided to go to Illya’s room at the end of the hallway and check on him. She hadn’t seen him at all in the past two days. She sighed. She thought that he was a bit interested in her. In Rome, she was sure, there was something between them. He was so protective, so tender with her. They almost… But now? Who knows?_

_“Maybe he just wants to stay professional…” she thought_

_Trying to be furtive she arrived at his door, but she stood still, unable to knock. Her courage was gone. What was she doing here, in front at his door? She was about to retrace her steps when the door opened._

_"What are you doing here? We should not have contact without reason."_

_Illya was standing in front of her, in a dark button up shirt, slightly opened on the neck, his leather shoulder holster still on, and grey trousers. He seems a bit tired. His hair was unusually messy. She had the irresistible impulse to run her hand through his beautiful blonde hair._

_"Without reason," she repeated in her head. She didn't even know why she was here, but she didn’t like his words. So, was he okay, not seeing her for two days?_

_"I'm out of vodka, will you let me in or not?” she said trying to sound stronger than she felt._

_Illya moved slightly on the side to let her in._

_"Have you not drunk enough already?" he said, but Gaby noticed his lips hinting at a small smile. His wonderful blue eyes were soft. So,_ **_he was happy_ ** _to see her. She smiled to herself._

_“What are you doing? Me and Napoleon went to that party at the Embassy. We followed the German couple all evening. The food was good. But this time it seems to me we are running around in circles.” she said, grabbing a bottle of vodka._

_“In circles?” he said doubtfully. He had closed the door and was approaching the table full of his electronic equipment._

_“This time we haven’t found anything, nor good information, nor good leads.” She explained, plopping on his couch, with the bottle and a glass in her hand. “Want some?” She already knew, his answer was no. Illya didn’t usually drink during missions. He sometimes drank a little in between missions. He was always professional._

_“No, thank you. I do not think we are…as you said… walking on a circle. I recorded some interesting conversations, and yesterday in the_ **_Kapalı Çarşı_ ** _I took some photos. Good photos, I think.”_

_“You went to the bazaar? Alone? I really wanted to see it.” She really wanted to visit the city with him. But sadly, they were always busy. “How was it? Can I see those photos?” She put her feet on the table, crossing her legs._

_“Too many people, I do not like it. But the place, the architecture is beautiful. I gave the photos to Waverly. With the recordings.” He was trying to keep listening to the marks while talking to her._

_“Already? And you still have work to do or you can spend some time with me?” She was just teasing him; she knew he was still busy._

_Illya opened his mouth but no sound came out. He seemed torn. He was about to answer when something caught his attention. “Stay still.”_

_With two steps he went to the door and opened it._

_Napoleon was leaning to the wall, a smirk on his face. “You are getting slow. Oh, now I understand, you were more_ _pleasantly_ _engaged. Hi Gabs”, he said entering the room. Gaby waved at him with a small smile. She really wanted to know Illya’s answer to her question._

_“Why are you here? You two are having a party in my room tonight, or what?” Illya said closing the door._

_“Well, you are not invited anyway.” Napoleon said with a teasing smile. “I heard from Waverly. We will meet with him tomorrow at 9 a.m. at the Bazaar. Something is happening at the Italian Embassy, so he said. I stole some documents from the ambassador’s study. I’ll give them to him tomorrow.” He quickly switched to his usual teasing self and said “So... can I stay or did you two have other plans?”_

_Illya had already returned to his surveillance table with a small sigh. Gaby watched the Russian for a moment. Had he other plans? Did he wanted to spend the night with her?_

_For a moment, their eyes met. His eyes were soft and clear and he gave her a small smile. She felt her cheeks burn. She looked down, turning to Solo. He had a sly winking expression. "So,_ **_you_ ** _really had other plans?'' he whispered to Gaby._

_She looked at him, her eyes wide “That’s not true!”._

_Solo lifted his brow, skeptical. “I’m not blind, you know. I probably can read you two better than your own self,” he murmured. Then turning to Illya, he raised his voice. “Have you found something interesting, Peril?”_

_“Maybe.”_

_It was the only answer he received from Illya that night. Napoleon and Gaby drank, chatting together for a while, mostly about the guests at the party, their clothes ( some guests had no taste according to Napoleon), their jewelry (Gaby was sure Napoleon took something for himself, but she couldn’t say how or when). Illya continued to work all night. Solo went to his room at 3 o’clock in the morning, but Gaby had no intention of going back to her room._

_“It’s better you get some sleep,” Illya said, after Napoleon left, finally raising his head to look at her. She had been waiting for it for hours._

_“I’m not sleepy,” Gaby answered, leaning on the couch_

_“You are never sleepy,” he said with a small soft smile._

_They had only known each other for a couple of weeks, but he seemed to understand her so well already. Since that first night in Rome they just clicked._

_It was as they had known each other for ages, they could trust each other._

_But then she betrayed him and Solo. She only followed her boss’s order but that didn’t make her sense of guilt disappear. She put them all in danger, they could be all dead because of her betrayal. She would be dead for sure, if they didn’t save her. She had apologized to Solo during their first day together in Istanbul. Her uncle had tortured him. She felt so bad about it that she cried alone for an hour in the bathroom of the hotel in Rome. No one had seen her, but she was sure Illya had noticed her puffy eyes. Probably that’s why he had forgiven her so quickly._

_But did he trust her again? Determined to find out if anything had changed between them, Gaby decided to be a little cheeky._

_“Can I stay here tonight?” She looked directly at him, to see his reaction._

_Illya could easily mask his emotions, keeping all his feelings caged inside him (until he exploded during his episodes). He surely had a temper, a passionate personality caged inside his heart. Lately he showed his true self more often, when he was alone with her. That's also what she found interesting about him. That warm man trapped under the ice. Sometimes she could see straight through the ice, right to his heart._

_His eyes widened for a second, and he paused a bit before answering. “Not a good idea.”_

_She could see the tips of his ears turning a little red._

_“And there is just one bed,” he continued._

_“I can sleep on the couch. I just do not want to be alone tonight,” Gaby answered. The teasing was starting to be too emotional also for her. She felt her cheeks burning._

_“You take bed._ **_I_ ** _sleep on the couch,” Illya said sharply, standing up and walking towards the bedroom. “Just let me get my clothes.”_

_“Sit with me for a while…won’t you?” she said. “We have not seen each other for days.”_

_When she lifted her eyes to watch him, his expression was so incredibly soft that her heart skipped a beat. His eyes were so blue and tender, like they were that day in Rome, when he was comforting her about the mission. His hands on her skin._

_He sat on the armchair near the couch, eyes still on her. Illya was a very private and taciturn man, but he also could be very assertive when he wanted to be._

_“Something is worrying you?” he asked._

_He really could see through her. Even if she always wore a mask. Usually, she never let her mask slip. She had shown her true self to him just twice, during their small brief moments alone together. That morning in Solo’s room, when she was so afraid to lose them both that she couldn’t stop trembling. And that morning while they were saying goodbye to each other, maybe for good. She wanted to tell him so many things, that day. But it was too early, or maybe too late. She really just wanted him to see her true self._

_“It’s not about the mission. All this seems so strange to me. I can’t relax. I wake up in the middle of the night and I do not know where I am, who I am. I have nothing left; I lost all my family… I just wanted to be free.” She sighed. That was more than she intended to confess, but it came out like a flood. She was keeping all those emotions in her for too long._

_“I’m sorry about your father. And I’m sorry you had to be a spy.” He really seemed concerned about her._

_“Says the Soviet super-spy.” She joked._

_“I had no choice” He said, pressing his lips together. She could see he didn’t want to talk about it._

_“Neither had I. My choices were Waverly, CIA, Nazi or being tortured by you and your friends.” Her answer was a little harsher that she intended to._

_“I would never torture you,” he said, his voice deep and low._

_“How do you know? It’s your job,” she said, trying to stay calm._

_“I know,” he said, resolute “I do not torture women. My mission was to watch over you, to wait for Nazi or CIA. To find your father.” She sensed a bit of hurt in his voice._

_“How many months did you spy on me?” She felt uneasy but strangely not afraid of the thought._

_“Six months.” He lowered his head as he was ashamed._

_That was a shock for Gaby. “_ **_Six months_ ** _? That long? Did you put bugs in my house?”_

_“Yes.” His head was still low, he didn’t dare to look at her.” That is why I know. I would never hurt you.”_

_She should be scared or at least offended, but she wasn’t. But she wanted to push him in a corner anyways._

_“You chased me through all East Berlin. What if your boss had asked you to kill me?”_

_“Solo tried to shoot me in the head twice in East Berlin…But I would never kill you or hurt you. And I did not intend to harm you that night.” He raised his head and looked at her. She saw the pain in his eyes. “It is true, even if you do not believe me. I can make my own choices…_ Я – человек, Я не машина…” _his voice was trembling. Gaby noticed his left hand twitching._

_“What did you just say? You know I can’t speak Russian yet.”_

_She felt a rush of guilt. She just wanted to talk with him and now she was basically torturing him._

_He took a deep breath and answered “I’m human. I‘m not a machine.”_

_At those words she felt a pang in her chest._

_“Illya… I didn’t mean…to offend you…”_

_“My boss ordered me to kill Cowboy and I did not. And I would never have hurt or killed you.” he continued, unable to stop._

_She stood up and knelt before him, and took his twitching hand in hers. “Illya…calm down. You are not a machine. Not a machine to me,” she said, and it was true. “Don’t be angry with me.”_

_His eyes locked with hers “I’m not angry with you.” Then he paused for a moment. “Are you afraid of me?” His question touched her heart._

_“No. Not anymore. Not since that night in Rome, when I slapped you and assaulted you and you did absolutely nothing.” She gave him a little smile. Well, apart from being absolutely adorable and kind. She thought._

_“You are strong.” His hand was still now. His lips twitched slightly “I knew you were strong; I saw it in East Berlin. You were always so brave. But still you surprised me that night. You were more brave and stronger than I thought.”_

_Gaby was speechless. That was a great compliment coming from him._

_“I would never hurt you.” he repeated_

_“I know. I was just teasing you.” she said, pressing her forehead on his shoulder. She wanted to tell him that she felt safe in that room with him. That she felt safe when he took her into his arms that rainy day. Every day spent together in Rome. But she said nothing. She just smiled._

_After that he stood up and disappeared to the bathroom. She climbed to his bed and turned off the lights. Embraced by Illya’s scent she felt so calm and protected._

_When he left the bathroom, crossing the room in silence, before lying down on the sofa she heard, just before falling asleep, a soft "Goodnight little chop shop girl."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's start getting into the action. New cities, new threats. A bit of fluff in the flashback...  
> Thanks a lot to my beta for this chapter mrsbonniemellark, English is not my first language (and I can't speak any Russian or German), so the mistakes are all mine.  
> Also I made this drawing of Illya and Gaby that inspired me for a scene of this chapter.
> 
> Thanks to the amazing trenko_heart for helping me with German and correcting all my mistakes.

****

**II**

**_Budapest, March 1964_ **

Gaby was still sitting on the floor when she heard some footsteps on the other side of the door. She didn’t move from her position. She already knew that it was Solo. She knew he followed her. But she was still angry at him. He was trying to open the door with his key, but he felt immediately that she was blocking the door leaning against it. 

“Are you okay?...Gaby, please let me in.” he whispered at the doorstep.

She didn’t answer. “ I need to speak with you. Let’s not waste time,” He was resolute. 

“Time? Time to do what? We left him there. There is nothing we can do now.” She was furious now.

“Don’t be stupid, Gaby. I don’t want to break down the door to get in...” Napoleon had run out of his patience. She could feel it. Not that she cared much at that point.

“I know something you don’t know. We can find him.” He whispered again.

She stood up immediately, lifting her weight from the door. He slipped in quickly and closed the door behind him. 

“It is the truth?” she asked. Her eyes were puffy and red. Napoleon had the impulse to comfort her, but he didn’t. 

“Have you checked for bugs already?” he continued, always in a whisper.

She shook her head. She was too upset to even think about it. 

Solo checked all over the room and the phone for bugs. He didn’t find anything. At least this house was really safe. 

Then Gaby spoke, “Do you really know where they keep him? But you didn’t say a word earlier in Waverly’s office. You didn’t even take my part. Or Illya’s. 

“I did what I could. I tried to explain it to you earlier, but you were out of your mind...I understand your position and...your feelings, but... I’m sorry if I ever misjudged what you feel about him--”

“ **I was out of my mind!** ” she shouted at him. “You weren't even there! And they didn’t use **YOU! They used ME!** Oh!My feelings! What do you even know about my feelings? Don't act now like I’m weak or crazy!” she was furious, again.

“Gaby, I didn’t know. They used me as well. Not in the same way, but **we** are together in this. We want the same thing. Waverly never said a word about that plan to me either. I’m sorry I didn’t understand everything sooner…” he was trying to calm her down, walking towards her, arms raised. “We still can save him. I can find him.” 

“He is probably already dead at this point.” She said sharply, but calmer. She felt like an empty shell.

“I know where he is. We can find him. We’ll bring him back. Dead or alive.”

**Istanbul, September 1963**

_That morning Gaby woke up in Illya’s bed, with a light touch of his fingers on her cheek. “Gaby, you have to go.” he whispered._

_She pressed her face against his hand, trapping it between her cheek and the pillow._

_“Mmmmhhh… just a minute…”_

_“We have to see Waverly at 9 a.m. You are going to be late.” He didn’t free his hand from her grip._

_She opened her eyes to look at him, already dressed and ready to go. His expression was sweet and amused. “Come on... .С добрым утром, соня…(Good morning sleepyhead).”_

_“...Gib mir eine Minute…( Give me just a minute)” she said, rolling to the other side of the bed. He sighed, smiling to himself._

_“In der Zwischenzeit mache ich dir einen Kaffee. (Meanwhile I’ll make you a coffee)” he replied, going into the sitting room._

_After 10 minutes and one coffee, Gaby managed to wake up and she quickly went back to her room to get dressed for the meeting with Waverly. She wanted to keep a low profile for the day, so she dressed as simply as she could. Dark grey capri pants and a white blouse. The three of them went to the Bazaar in separate ways . When she was ready to go out, Illya had already left. Napoleon was still in the Hotel’s lobby, but he didn’t make any contact with her._

_She was the last one to join the meeting. At the Bazaar, she wandered around a little, never having been in a place like that. So full of life, people, bright colors and spicy scents. Everything was so lively and bright compared to East Berlin. She had almost forgotten why she was there._

_Then she spotted the three men casually talking nearby at a stand of typical food. She moved closer to them, slowly, trying to stay at the right distance to catch their conversation. Waverly said that their work in Istanbul was done, the next destination was Vienna. Their marks, the German couple had already left for Austria. Solo tried to express some doubts, no information seemed dependable, but Waverly with good manners cut the speech short. Illya stayed silent the whole time, his expression unreadable._

_So they had to get on the first plane and fly to Vienna. Not even a resting day, just a few hours._

_Solo and Waverly immediately left, going in opposite directions. Illya was still a few meters away from her._

_“Wir haben etwas Freizeit, (We have some free time, )” he said softly, without looking at her "Möchtest du die Hagia Sophia besuchen?(Would you like to visit the Hagia Sophia?)”_

_“да” It was all the Russian that she could manage at the time._

_He followed her through the whole_ _Kapalı Çarşı_ _till the exit. The Hagia Sophia wasn’t too far, so they decided to walk in the crowd, trying not to be noticed. Illya was too tall and too blonde to get unnoticed, but they could seem like two tourists wandering around the city. He still kept his distance, following her, trying not to lose her into the crowded streets. But there were so many people that at a certain point he almost lost her. He went closer to her and took her hand in his, continuing the walk towards the ancient building._

_“Hagia Sophia is a very ancient construction, it was built in 537, under the Roman Emperor Justinian I, it was a church then a mosque, it’s now a museum. The design of its dome was so impressive and risky that it fell 2 times.” He explained._

_“Oh Mr. Russian Architect is back!” she smiled. “So you really like architecture! And this one was not made by Russians?”_

_He glanced at her, arching an eyebrow, amused. “I like reading about architecture. We can also go to see Little Hagia Sophia and Blue Mosque. I read about them.”_

_He was in such a good mood that Gaby was astonished. He always smiled more and was more playful when they were together alone, but today he was almost a completely different person. Sometimes she tried to imagine what man he could have been if he wasn’t forced to join KGB, if his family stayed together. If they had not stolen his childhood from him._

_They spent two hours walking around the streets, visiting monuments and talking. The mosques were breathtaking, Gaby never imagined that places like that could even exist. At that moment she was glad to be in the U.N.C.L.E., at least she can travel and see the world's wonders. A month ago she was just a mechanic girl in a chop shop in East Berlin. They also went to see the sea. Gaby, except for that day at Vinciguerra’s Island, hadn’t seen the sea since she was a child. Today it was beautiful, peace and happiness filled her heart. She decided she was going to live at sea someday in the future. But she couldn’t decide if it was the sight of the sea that made her feel that way, or Illya’s little smile, his hair uncombed by the light breeze, his rosy cheeks in the sun._

_She went back to the hotel alone and started packing. Soon after, Solo came to her room to report the flight information and their accommodation in Vienna. She would travel alone to the safe house in Mariahilferstrasse. She had never been to Vienna, but she was sure she could manage everything by herself. At least this time she could speak her native language._

  
  


**Vienna late September 1963**

_She arrived at the safe house late at night. No one has arrived yet. Probably Waverly sent Illya and Solo to place the electronic equipment. She checked the three bedrooms and chose the one more in her taste. She took a bath, changed into more comfortable clothes and waited. Despite trying to stay awake, after two glasses of vodka, she soon fell asleep on the sofa._

_It was almost dawn when Solo arrived at the safe house, visibly tired._

_Gaby sat up on the sofa, "Are you okay?" she asked, still sleepy._

_“Have you already checked the place for bugs?” he replied._

_“Yes, all clear.”_

_“There is something off in this mission. But I still don’t understand what it is,”he said. “Peril will be home soon, I’ll cook something. Have you eaten?”_

_“No. I was too tired to cook. I drank vodka.”_

_“You don’t say.” he said smiling, walking towards the kitchen._

_Illya arrived ten minutes later. His clothes were dirty and like Solo he seemed very tired. He locked the door, his heavy bag hitting the floor with a loud sound._

_Gaby was still sitting on the couch. “All good?” he asked her from the door-frame of the sitting room. She nodded slightly “Solo is in the kitchen. How was the bug's placement? Has anyone noticed you??”_

_He sat on the couch near her.“We bugged 10 locations, some offices, some houses. We did not make the Italian Embassy. Solo has to break in some other way.”_

_“The German couple is still in Vienna? Waverly did not contact me at all.”_

_“They met a man this evening in a cafe. They are trying to make some arrangements, we still don’t know about what.”_

_Solo entered the room “Let’s go talking in the kitchen, we all need to eat and sleep. This story seems a mess.”_

_While eating some omelettes and some canned beans, Solo explained his concern._

_“We need to establish some direct contact with these people. We can’t keep to just listening, waiting for an epiphany. I don’t understand Waverly on this. What do you think, Peril?”_

_“Listening is good, but I’m with you on this, Cowboy.” he muttered._

_“ Well it must be serious if you two agree on something.” supposed Gaby. “So what do you intend to do? Solo, do you think that couple has noticed us in Istanbul? Can we make contact with them or it is too risky? I could approach the man.”_

_“Not a good idea.” Illya snapped immediately._

_“Illya! I can’t stay here all day doing nothing.” her fork banged against the plate._

_“Peril is right.” Solo said, Gaby rolled her eyes, snorting. “Your training isn't over yet, you can't be alone with that man. We still don't know enough about him and his affiliations.”_

_“ So? We just keep a low profile and wait?” Gaby retorted._

_“Me and you have to see Waverly tomorrow. He has some orders for you. Peril already has a lot of work to do with wiretapping. I will try to break into those buildings we couldn't enter today. If someone approaches you, you are Gaby Teller. Victoria is dead. No one at the moment knows that you are a British spy. Maybe some nazi is still interested on you. "_

_Illya got stiff on his chair. “Don’t worry Peril, she will be safe,” he added with a small smile._

_“I am not worried.“ He could be a very special agent but his lie was quite obvious to both of his partners. Gaby felt a surge of guilt. Of course he was worried, last time they had all been very close to death._

_“_ _I still have your bug with me.” she said, showing the ring that Illya had given her in Rome, hanging from her neck chain. Illya gave her a quick small smile. They stared at each other for a while. Then she realized that Napoleon was looking at them with a smirk and hid the necklace back in her pajama jacket._

_Solo stood up, “Okay guys, I think it’s time to get some hours of sleep. I’ll go first. Don’t have too much fun without me.” he blinked at Gaby and went out of the kitchen._

_Gaby started clearing the table “ I 'll do the dishes, I've already slept a bit while I was waiting for you two," Illya was still on his chair in silence. She put a hand on his forearm, stroking softly “ Don’t worry I’ll be careful. And maybe no one is interested in Gaby Teller anymore.” she said. He kept his eyes to the table._

_She continued to clean the kitchen, and after several minutes in silence, Illya looked at her, with his soft small smile, that one she found so cute “I got you a present,” he said._

_“A present?” She arched an eyebrow playfully, leaning on the kitchen’s counter. “When did you even have the time to buy something...”_

_“That’s classified.”he said, smiling. He stood up, getting closer to her, “I hope you like it,” he continued, handing a small red package over to her._

_She raised her head to look at him, she was barefoot and he was huge next to her. But since that day in that West Berlin’s boutique, she wasn't intimidated by him. She often felt reassured by his enormous physical presence. No one could ever harm her when she was with him._

_She opened the present, and found a long golden necklace, two long strings with an intricate knot in the middle. It was Turkish jewelry, she saw something like that at the Bazaar in Istanbul. She was astonished. “Illya…” she couldn’t even find the words._

_“ Do not worry, no bugs in this one. I just wanted to give you a souvenir of Istanbul.”_

_“You don’t have to give me gifts, I like you already.” At her words, he blushed a little._

_“ It is not...I…saw it and...it was your Birthday last week, wasn't it?”_

_“Thank you,” she smiled. "How do you know...oh! Right!You spied on me." She opened a bottle of vodka and poured her some liquid in a glass._

_“Well...I read it in your file, yes. Are you nervous?” he asked._

_“ I just need a drink. You know I don’t sleep well.” She paused. “And I just hope I don't have to meet some other Nazis alone.” She told him the truth. Now it was a little easier for her to be more sincere with him. She knew he really cared about her._

_“I’ll be there.” His voice was firm and soft._

_“You don’t know that.” She trusted him, but she knew what their job was like. They had to follow orders._

_“I’ll be there,” he repeated. “I promise, милая_ _._ _” He came closer to her and took her wrist, softly stroking her skin with his thumb._

_She felt the heat spreading from the point he was touching her to her whole body, setting her on fire. She leaned against him, her forehead on his chest._

_With his left hand still on her wrist, he put his other hand on her shoulder, sliding it slowly and gently down her back. She sighed loudly. The tension was almost unbearable. She raised her head to look at him, she wanted to see those wonderful blue eyes staring at her. And his eyes were so deep and passionate she went weak at her knees. In her whole life, no one looked at her with such intensity and sweetness. How much sweetness could be hidden in such a huge and dangerous man._

_Illya lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. She felt an urgent need to kiss him and hold him closer._

_And, of course, in that precise moment Solo entered the room.“Are you two still awake?”_

_They parted abruptly, both flushed. Solo froze for a moment, realizing what he interrupted. Again. He smiled a little. It was almost comical at this point._

_Illya muttered “Good night” and he hurried out of the room._

_Gaby was a little annoyed, it was becoming an irritating habit._

_“I hope you know what you are doing,” Solo told her._

_His statement surprised her. "I don't know what you mean."_

_"Gaby. Clearly there is something in the air between you two since Rome. Peril is an open book since that afternoon after the Vinciguerra’s party. But you….I can’t really read you about this. I think you are playing with fire.”_

_“I’m not playing with anything. And Illya would never hurt me.”_

_“In all sincerity, in this specific case, it’s not you I worry about.” He said, leaving the room._

_Gaby stood alone in the kitchen thinking about Solo’s words._

_“So he thinks that I’m playing with Illya’s feelings. As if it were so easy to understand what is really going through his head. I must really seem like a cold hearted woman.”_

_The next morning, Gaby and Solo met Waverly, in his office, at the U.N.C.L.E. headquarter in Vienna. Illya was already on the field, and she wondered if he had some decent hours of sleep before starting the surveillance again._

_Solo was sent almost immediately to meet some of his C.I.A. contacts in the city, and he would have to sneak into two buildings and the Italian Embassy. Apparently the German couple already left the city, after a brief meeting with an Italian man who was working at the Embassy._

_Waverly was sure that the German couple, the Becks, had some connections with the late_ _Rudolph Von Trulsch, Gaby’s uncle._

_So Gaby had to be the decoy again._

_She had to wander around the city, visiting some places, where, according to their information, her uncle Rudi met some of his affiliates in the past. She was Gaby Teller from East Berlin again, the nazi’s niece, the Russian architect’s fiancee._

_Wearing Illya’s ring on her left hand again she went to the city's center. After visiting Hofburg's palace ( she was on holiday after all, why not visit Empress Sissi's house!) she walked into an old coffee house near Michaelerplatz, as Waverly ordered, and waited for someone to approach her. The place was a bit old fashioned, very few people inside._

_She sat down in the cafe and, browsing the menu, she chatted with the waiter in German, explaining that her late uncle used to talk so much about this place, that he had been a loyal customer several years ago. She casually dropped the name of her famous uncle, waiting for some reaction from the other customers. Then she ordered a Viennese coffee and a slice of_ _Apfelstrudel (Apple strudel). Gaby was tense. She was alone this time, she knew that Illya and Solo didn’t even know where she was, or what she was doing. If something went wrong, there was no way out. She tried to stay calm, and put her best poker face on, absently reading the newspaper._

_She was just starting to enjoy her slice of strudel when a blond man in his thirties approached her. Medium height, stout and pleasant in appearance, but his hazel eyes were cold. He politely asked her if he could sit with her, saying that he had heard her talking about her uncle Rudolph._

_“Aren’t you too young to know my late uncle? He lived in Vienna during the war.” she said in German._

_“I never personally met him, Miss. But my father was his friend. I’m sure we share the same interests. I heard about your uncle’s death, my condolences.”_

_“Thank you.” She tried to be impassive but friendly._

_“ I think my father also knew your father...Miss...Teller.”_

_“Oh there it is! Let’s stop playing games.” she thought and replied “I’m sorry, but I don’t like talking about my private matters with strangers.”_

_“ I understand, Miss Teller, I know you but you know nothing about me. Let’s say that we have some mutual friends.”_

_“I’m sorry, I have no friends. Not anymore.”_

_“ Last time we talked with your uncle he said you were engaged…” he hinted._

_“I’m still engaged. My uncle met me and my fiancee in Rome. But after that meeting my Illya had to go back to Berlin for work, so I traveled alone for some weeks, and he will join me in Vienna soon. Meanwhile, I received the sad news about my uncle. He had some kind of electric accident...or so they told me.” She tried to create a plausible story, hoping that whoever this man was, he hadn't already gotten any information of their true identities. She could only pray that the Vinciguerras hadn’t the time to explain the events of that day to their organization’s affiliates._

_“That’s a pity. Such a beautiful woman engaged to a communist,” he said boldly, with a smirk.’“I’ll leave you my business card, if you want to contact me. We can meet tomorrow, alone. And keep talking about our mutual friends.” He smiled coldly._

_“I’ll be at the Albertina’s museum tomorrow morning. I always wanted to visit it,” she said, that was what Waverly ordered, but she wasn’t so sure it was the best thing to do._

_“Auf Wiedersehen, Fräulein Teller.” he said and quickly left the cafe._

_Gaby tried to keep her coolness, drinking her, now cold, coffee. She hated this job. She hated her life. Why can’t she have a stupid, normal life? Being a normal girl, with a decent family. She pressed her lips together and sighed. If only Illya was there with her. Or Solo. She always put up her brave facade, trying to be strong and cold, but sometimes she just felt so lonely. But there was no time for self-pity._

_She slowly ate her strudel, thinking about the next step to take. Waverly told her that she couldn't go back to the safe house, someone would probably follow her. So he had reserved a room for her in a chic Hotel in the city center. But first she had to contact him to report that someone had approached her. When she left the cafe she could sense someone watching her, and this time she knew it wasn’t Illya. She wandered the city for a while, then she approached a phone booth and made the call to the operations center. She said her codified sentence and received the expected answer._

_Then, although it wasn't planned, she tried to call Illya._

_She hoped that he had already returned to the safe house to put his interceptions in order. She just needed to hear his voice for a moment._

_“Hello?” his strong accent and his deep warm voice reverberated into the telephone receiver._

_“Darling, I’m in Vienna. I miss you. Can you leave East Berlin as soon as possible? You know how to find me. I’ll wait for you.” Without waiting for his answer, she hung up the phone._

_Now she was sure he would be with her as soon as possible. Not that she couldn’t handle the situation by herself, but to be honest, Waverly gave her so little information about the mark that she didn’t feel at ease._

_Arriving at her hotel to check in, she told the concierge that her fiancee would join her late that night, he was traveling from Berlin and that she would dine in her room at 7 p.m. The room was comfortable and elegant, not baroque like the one in Rome, but still rich in brocades and fine furniture. Maybe this time they wouldn't have destroyed the whole room._

_She put the bags with her purchases down on the floor, next to the door and took off her shoes. She walked over to the minibar and poured herself a drink, which she placed on the coffee table. She rummaged through the shopping bags and pulled out the vinyl records and Brecht’s book she had bought earlier._

_She put on some music, and sipping her drink, she started to read the book, leaning on the couch._

_Illya arrived at 2 a.m. He was dressed in his usual outfit, dark blue turtleneck and suede jacket. He had both of their suitcases with him and placed them on the floor as soon as he entered._

_“Sorry, it is very late, darling.” Before she could answer, he brought his index finger to his lips, telling her not to speak, and checked the whole room for bugs._

_“Don't worry, dearest. You've come a long way, are you hungry? Do you want a drink?” she replied._

_“No, thank you.”_

_When he finished the search she asked him, “Were you with Solo?”_

_“I was his backup. Cowboy snuck in the Embassy. But after that we went our separate ways, I do not know what he found. Maybe tomorrow he will be here at the hotel. But he has to talk with Waverly first.”_

_“Someone approached me today at the coffee house. He knew my uncle and my father. His name is Bohne.”_

_“I do not like this plan. Waverly sent you out there without any information about the mark. We do not know enough.”_

_“That was my thought. But I also trust Waverly, he wouldn’t put me in danger without a reason,” Gaby answered._

_“He already did that in Rome. You and Cowboy could be dead now,” Illya muttered, sitting down on the couch next to her. That thought made him sullen. He folded his arms firmly on his chest._

_“But you saved us. I think that Waverly fears an imminent danger. Didn't you find anything in those wiretaps of yours?"_

_“Yes. We have some interesting conversations, they talk about a man, but they never say his name. He has got part of your father’s project for the bomb. We know where they usually met, and that they are interested in you.”_

_“So you knew? Why didn't you say anything? I can’t understand what they want from me! I’m just a stupid chop shop girl, I’m not a scientist or something. I know nothing,” She urged. She was losing her coolness._

_“They think that you know something. That maybe your uncle or your father left you something useful for their plans. Or they are just trying to figure out which side you are on.” Illya was worried, she could tell from the sound of his voice._

_“This nightmare never ends. And I guess they are ready to extract information from me with any means,” she sighed._

_“I will not let them. I promise. I’ll protect you.” He put his right hand on her forearm. She looked at him with a little smile._

_“Tomorrow I have to meet that man alone at the Albertina. What if they take me elsewhere? Not that I’m scared but... I just feel too exposed,” She tried to sound calm._

_“I’ll watch your back. I will follow you,_ _милая_ _. Cowboy will be there too.” he said softly, taking her small hand in his. She leaned against him and pressed her head on his shoulder._

_“I bought some records today, do you want to listen to some music?” she asked after a while._

_“ We have different taste in music, you know that,” His mouth twitched._

_“ You mean... you hate music,” She lifted her head a little to look at him._

_“I do not hate music. I prefer good Russian classical composers,” he replied solemnly._

_“And that’s why I also bought Čajkovskij and_ _Rakhmaninov,”_

_“ Rakhmaninov?” he sounded surprised._

_“Oh please, don’t tell me you don’t like him because he left Great Mother Russia and lived in the U.S.!" She got up and walked over to the record player to put on a record._

_“No. In fact I love his music. Thank you.” His smile was so relaxed and sweet that she felt her face burning and she hid her blush by covering her face with the record’s cover._

_“I like him too. And I think his Piano Concerto n.2 suits you. And, of course, I love_ _Čajkovskij’s ballets. I used to dance some years ago, don’t you know?” She went back to the couch but sat on the floor, next to his feet, embracing her knees with her arms._

_“I know that, you were a soloist.”_

_“Of course you know, you spied on me!” she said laughing. “I was good. Maybe one day I’ll show you.”_

_“ I will hold you on that,_ _милая_ _.” he told her and noticed the book on the coffee table “Oh, you have also bought Bertold Brecht!”_

_“Do you like him? He was a bit controversial, but he supported the East Berlin's Government at some point so I think even a Russian can read his books.” She loved to tease him. Gaby layed down on the floor, lifting his feet up on the arm of the sofa. The records she had bought were all scattered across the floor._

_“I read Brecht. I also saw some of his plays.”_

_“And did you see ballets? At the Bolshoi?”_

_“Of course I did. When I was a little boy my family was important. My parents loved to go see ballets...” His smile faded, thinking about his family. He never talked about his past, not even with her. That was a completely new situation. “That was before my father…before he was...” He couldn’t continue._

_She immediately sat up, next to his legs. Gaby only knew what she had read on his file, and she didn’t really want to push him on that subject, if he wasn’t ready to talk. She knew that feeling very well. So she put her hand on his knee and said “It’s okay, you haven’t to talk about it if you don't want to. Let’s do something else.” And she rested her head on his knees. After some instants, his hand stroked her hair gently, playing with some errand lock._

_“Which is your favorite ballet,_ _милая_ _?”_

_“My favorite is The Nutcracker, but I also like Giselle very much.”_

_“Щелкунчик… You could be a sugar plum fairy,” he smiled._

_She laughed at his remark. “Oh no, I’m not delicate enough to be a plum fairy.”_

_“I do not think so.”_

_“Sometimes I think that we are similar, you know,” she said suddenly, as she was just talking to herself. “We were robbed of our childhood, our fathers were taken away from us, then our mothers left us too. We had to learn to take care of ourselves very early on. But at least I had my foster father..."_

_Illya watched her with eyes wide open, but he didn't seem upset by her statement. He just seemed surprised that she had compared their life experiences._

_“What did you call me before? You always call me that. What does it mean?” she asked, changing the subject again._

_“Tsk. You need to start learning Russian,_ _милая_ _,” he replied, playfully._

_“Okay, if you don't want to tell me I'll ask Solo,” she teased him, raising her head. She knew that it was an embarrassing term of endearment, or something like that. She would never talk with Solo about it._

_“You wouldn’t dare!”_

_“Don’t I? Really? And what are you going to do to stop me?”_

_“Gaby.” That was the first warning. She adored to tease him. It was way too funny._

_“Do you want to wrestle again? If I remember correctly, last time I beat you up,” She winked at him._

_“I let you win,” he said. But that wasn’t entirely true._

_She tilted her head and arched an eyebrow._

_“Okay, you took me by surprise,” he said, “and then I let you win.”_

_“I totally won,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Time to go to bed,” She stood up and turned off the music._

_“I’ll take the couch,” he nodded._

_“No, last night you barely slept. And in Istanbul, two nights ago, you slept on that tiny couch. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch tonight.”_

_His eyes widened. “Not a good idea,”_

_“I don’t care. You need to get some good hours of sleep.” She was adamant. And, as always, it was impossible for Illya to object. “You go first. I’ll join you in a moment.”_

_And so he went to the bathroom and then to bed. He took the left side of the bed, his back towards the window. When she joined him, after ten minutes, he was almost asleep. But the feeling of her so close woke him up immediately. She felt his body stiffen, and put a hand on his shoulder. They both lay on their sides, facing each other._

_“Just relax...” She moved her hand to his face. She trusted him, he would never do anything to her without her consent. Illya discomfort slowly faded, as she lightly touched the scar near his right eye with her fingertips. “How do you make this?It seems like an old scar.”_

_He didn’t answer. He took her hand in his, bringing the back of her hand to his lips, kissing it slightly. Then he pressed her hand to his cheek. It was so intimate and sweet that her heart skipped a beat, but she felt at ease and safe._

_They stayed like that, in silence for several minutes, then he said, “Don’t be worried for tomorrow. You can do it. You can fool anyone.”_

_“Well I can fool you, for sure. But I didn’t fool Victoria last time,” She smiled._

_“She was very sly, and evil. She would have killed you and your father anyway.”_

_“I know I’m good at lying. My whole life was a lie, and still is.”_

_“You can be sincere with me,” His voice was soft and low._

_She laughed, “You wish,” then added, in a more serious tone, “I won’t be completely honest with you until you do the same.”_

_He remained silent. “See?You can’t promise me that, can you?” she pressed him._

_“I can’t tell you everything about me, but it does not mean that I’m lying to you,” he finally said._

_“I’m not talking about work.”_

_“I’m not used to talking about myself or about my feelings with anyone. I just...это тяжело для меня...” his body tensed up, his grip on her hand tightened._

_“Oh, nicht Russisch sprechen…” She hated to be unable to understand him.“Bitte...( Don’t speak Russian, please) I want to understand what you say.”_ _She now hated that she had forgotten that little Russian she had learned in school during her childhood._

_“It’s hard for me,” he repeated in English, and after some moments in silence “and we need to start these Russian lessons, kleine Mechanikerin, (little mechanic).”_

_“I’ll wait then,” she said, “for you to be ready.” Leaving unclear if she was talking about his feelings or his Russian lessons._

_“We should sleep now. Tomorrow you need to be alert. Don’t try anything too risky. We just need some more information from him. Don’t put yourself in danger unnecessarily.” He still held her hand in his, but his voice was firm and professional._

_“I’ll be careful,” She smiled. Freeing her left hand from his, she lightly stroked his hair. “Gute Nacht, Illya.”_

_“Спокойной ночи, милая (Goodnight, milaya),” he said with a little naughty smile. She huffed, hearing him speaking Russian again. They fell asleep like that, facing each other, her hand in his hair, his hand on her shoulder._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be all flashbacks (1963) to get more into the story. Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it.  
> Illya calls Gaby "milaya", I read it in some fanfics and I loved so much.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all in flashback, in 1963. We see what happened in Vienna. A little action, a lot of fluff.  
> Thanks a lot to my beta for this chapter mrsbonniemellark, English is not my first language (and I can't speak any Russian or German), so the mistakes are all mine.
> 
> Thanks to the amazing trenko_heart for helping me with German and correcting all my mistakes.

**_III_ **

**Vienna late September 1963**

_Next morning Gaby woke up with her head on Illya's chest, wrapped in his arms. He held her firmly but gently, and she could hear his steady heartbeat. She decided to stay like that for a while. After about 10 minutes, she felt his breath change, his body moving, slowly awakening from sleep. When Illya realized that he had Gaby in his arms, he stiffened slightly. She could feel his heart beating faster and his breathing becoming agitated. Slowly he released the embrace, and tried to get out of bed without making too much noise. He thought she was still asleep. She rolled to his side, trying to catch his warmness. She fell asleep again._

_Twenty minutes later, she was awakened by the sound of two voices. Illya was talking to someone. After a second, she recognized Solo's familiar voice._

_The bedroom door was half-closed, and she slowly got up from the bed, trying to catch their conversation._

_“I don’t understand why I can’t go with her. They know we are engaged,” Illya said, he was pacing in the living room, visibly nervous._

_“Waverly said that it’s better if she goes alone. They won’t say anything if you are there, you know that too, Peril,” Solo was sitting in the armchair, drinking coffee, calm as always, “and she can manage it by herself. She can fool anyone,”_

_“I know that. I trust her ability, but we know very little about this man, and she is unarmed,” Illya muttered._

_“I’ll be next by. And you’ll cover us. I understand your feelings, but you need to keep a cool head,”_

_“What are you talking about?” the Russian said, defensively._

_“When Gaby is in danger, you lose your focus on the target. Your priority becomes her and you lose sight of the rest,” Solo insisted._

_“That is not true!”_

_“I understand that you care about her but-”_

_“You know nothing, so now stop talking about this,” said Illya, visibly uncomfortable._

_“Let’s hope she doesn’t do anything unexpected like the last time,” the American said._

_Illya gave him a dirty look. “This time is different. Don’t you trust her?”_

_“Of course I do. But Gaby is always unpredictable,”_

_“Don’t worry I don’t plan to betray you again.” Gaby interrupted, entering the room, still in her pajamas and barefoot._

_Solo smirked and stood up “We’ll see you there, then.” he said walking towards the exit door “I’m in room 404 if you need me.”_

_Gaby glanced at Illya, he was standing near the window, avoiding her look._

_She knew he was worried, she was worried too, about everything, but she was a professional now. She had to learn to deal with these feelings, and he had to learn that he couldn’t keep her always away from danger._

_She changed quickly, wearing the white short dress Illya bought for her that day in West Berlin. She had to wear a short jacket, the weather was turning chilly. When she was back in the room he had just finished packing his things for the mission._

_“Are you taking the rifle? Won't it be excessive? We are in broad daylight,”_

_“ I like to be prepared. So I take my Dragunov with me, I don’t intend to use it. Just in case,” he zipped his bag. She knew that he was taking that risk for her._

_Without saying anything, she took Brecht’s book from the coffee table, flipped through the pages until she found the poem she was looking for, then put the open book on the table, glancing at him._

_“I’ll go first. I have your ring,” she said, hoping he had understood her message._

_“I’ll be on the roof of the nearest building,”he said, then glanced at the open book, “Don’t do anything stupid.”_

_“Verstanden!(Understood)” she replied with a smirk, mimicking a military salute. Then she left the room. She had chosen poetry from that book to convey her feelings._

**_Morgens und abends zu lesen_ **

_Der, den ich liebe_

_Hat mir gesagt_

_Daß er mich braucht._

_Darum_

_Gebe ich auf mich acht_

_Sehe auf meinen Weg und_

_Fürchte von jedem Regentropfen_

_Daß er mich erschlagen könnte._

_(_ **_To read in the morning and at night_ **

_My love_

_Has told me_

_That he needs me._

_That's why_

_I take good care of myself_

_Watch out where I'm going and_

_Fear that any drop of rain_

_Might kill me.)_

_Maybe she was too emotional that morning but she felt the urgent need to reassure him. She tried to clear her mind, preparing for what lay ahead. She wanted to prove to her partners,or perhaps to herself, that she was their equal._

_When she arrived at the museum, she behaved like a tourist, visiting the permanent collection. Solo was already wandering in the museum among the artworks. Surely his eyes for art had already fallen on some priceless pieces. Maybe using Solo as a support on the field, placing him in the midst of his greatest weakness hadn't been a good idea. Herr Bohne approached her silently, asking her to continue their conversation outside. Once in the outer courtyard, Gaby fought the urge to look around, searching for Illya or Solo. She kept her cool. The man began to speak to her with mellifluous and cold courtesy._

_“I don't have time for small talk. You talked about mutual friends but I don't see anyone here with you. I don't like wasting my time,” She wanted to sound cocky, leading the game._

_“Our mutual friends are no longer in Vienna. They wanted to meet you but they had to go to France urgently.”_

_“Why am I here then?” she retorted, raising her voice._

_“We wanted to be sure you are interested.”_

_“I still don’t understand. Interested in what?” She hoped Illya could hear them clearly._

_“We have something that belonged to you father, your uncle Rudi left it to my father, six months ago. Sadly, it’s incomplete. We hope you can help us. Maybe your father left you something, or you want to join us and finish his work,” he whispered, and his tone made her shiver._

_“I don’t think I can help you, I’m not my father. But I would be happy to honor his memory, saving his work.” she said, trying to handle the situation. “ I guess you don't want to part with this object. Not even to give it back to its creator's daughter,”_

_“It would be better if you join us. Preferably alone. We don't like getting mixed up with Soviet’s scum,” His tone was harsh. His mask was faltering, showing his true self._

_“You are asking too much of me. I don’t even know you,” she replied coldly._

_“I think you understand the situation perfectly.” he said with a cold smirk “So, if you are interested, I’ll send you the information to meet us in Paris, next month. By then my friends will have concluded their business. They will be thrilled to meet you.”_

_Gaby smiled politely. He added after a small pause, “And I trust that by then your fiancee will no longer be a problem.”_

_“I like to decide for myself, I can’t promise anything,” Her tone was calm, she acted stronger than she felt. “Send your information to my hotel. You already know where I'm staying, don't you?” She knew they were following her. “Now, if you want to excuse me, I have some important errands to do,” She was about to leave when Bohne took her arm abruptly._

_“You know what the stakes are. Try not to disappoint us.” he said in a menacing tone._

_She held his gaze without being intimidated and freed herself from his hold, walking away._

_-_

_Gaby went immediately back to the hotel, she wanted to take off that unpleasant feeling and take a shower._

_When she came out of the bathroom, after changing her dress, Illya and Solo were both in the room, still arguing. Illya turned to her, worried._

_“Are you okay?” he asked her immediately._

_“She was perfectly safe, Peril, I was there,” Solo urged._

_“I saw that man grabbing her arm,” Illya raised his voice._

_“And I bet you almost shot him.” Solo mocked him “She had everything under control,”_

_“I know that! She did everything good. I’m not questioning her actions.”_

_“Guys, calm down, I’m fine!” Gaby said to both her partners. “But I don't know if meeting that man was useful. I don't understand why he wanted to see me if his accomplices are no longer in town.”_

_“He was just testing you,” Solo explained._

_Gaby huffed, getting herself a drink. It wasn’t even noon yet, but she needed a drink. Illya glanced at her with a deep sigh. He was still worried for her. He knew she was still upset by the meeting with that man._

_Sometimes he really could see through her._

_“I called Waverly. He told me to wait for the information about the next meeting with these bad guys. Our next destination is London. Gaby and I have to be at U.N.C.L.E.'s HQ in two days. We will have an apartment,” Solo said._

_“Just the two of us? And Illya?” Gaby asked. She didn’t know why, but in that moment her anxiety mounted._

_“Peril has more important things to discuss with his KGB boss,” Solo answered._

_Gaby turned to Illya “Did you know that? Did they contact you?”_

_Illya nodded._

_“But is it safe? What if they know about the disk you two destroyed?” She urged._

_“I'm still KGB. I must go. They won't hurt me, don't worry.” Illya was calm as ever, yet Gaby couldn't believe his last statement._

_“He still is their best agent anyways. Blame me about the disk, if you need to.” Solo added with a sly smile._

_Illya shrugged. “I don't need your help, Cowboy.” Then he turned toward Gaby and said, “I'll meet you in London in a few days.”_

_Gaby was uneasy but remained silent. She knew he was still a KGB operative, they owned him. She couldn't do anything about it. They all were like dogs on a leash._

_“But these people are following me. How can we go to London unnoticed?” Gaby asked._

_“Waverly has everything covered. Some U.N.C.L.E. agents will block our Nazi friends tomorrow. And the plan is mine, so you have nothing to worry about,” Solo said._

_“So, what do we do for the rest of the day?” Gaby asked._

_“I’ll follow the mysterious Mr. Bohne. He didn’t notice me today, so I should be okay. You two need to show off a bit today, visiting the city. Bohne's men will surely follow you, paying less attention to me.” Solo instructed them, then he turned to Illya with a wry smile, “And remember, Peril, if they approach you, you are an architect, don’t react. Last time in Rome, you were a disaster.”_

_“Don’t question my methods, Cowboy, I’m a professional!” the Russian snapped at him._

_“Oh mein Gott, don’t start again, you two! If I hear this once again, I’ll scream!” Gaby jumped to her feet “Männer sind so dumm, (Men are so stupid)” she murmured._

_At this statement the two men glanced at each other and shrugged._

_“Now stop whining, let’s go.” she added._

_Leaving the hotel, Solo joined Waverly's team that was following Bohne as Illya and Gaby headed for the city center. Their intent was to get noticed and to be followed for a few hours. Gaby hoped no one would try to attack them this time. Illya's reactions were always difficult to predict, she often managed to calm him down, but if he was provoked several times she didn't know what could happen._

_Illya was taciturn, which was unusual when they were alone. Usually with her he was much more inclined to talk and smile. Gaby couldn't tell if something was bothering him._

_They were near St. Stephen's Cathedral, walking arm in arm, when she asked him, “Are you okay? You have barely spoken since we left the Hotel.”_

_Illya nodded but said nothing. This made her even more uncomfortable._

_“Did I say something wrong? Are you mad at me?” she insisted._

_“It’s okay. I am not mad at you. There's still something that doesn't convince me. I feel like I’m missing something. And then…”_

_“And then?” she asked again._

_He softened, touching her arm with his hand. His lips twitched._

_“Did you leave that book on the table for me this morning?” he asked sweetly._

_She didn't expect a direct question about the poem she had left for him. She suddenly felt exposed, and instinctively tried to hide her true feelings._

_“You were worried about me, I just wanted to tell you I would be careful. Don't read too much into it.” That wasn’t a complete lie._

_Illya hummed, he seemed convinced but a little sad. Watching the soft little smile fading from his lips, Gaby immediately regretted her words._

_“_ _Der Stephansdom ist wunderschön, (_ _St. Stephen's Cathedral is beautiful )_ _” he said, trying to change the subject of their conversation._

 _Gaby felt so stupid, she wanted to tell him a thousand things, but she couldn’t say anything. While they were near the entrance to the Cathedral, Illya suddenly held her close, brushing her ear with his lips. Her heart skipped a beat. The warmth of his lips and his breath on her neck made her feel weak at her knees._ _A warm blush rose to her cheeks._

_“They're still following us. They must hate seeing you with your Russian scum,” he said against her neck._

_She couldn’t see his face but she heard the annoyance in his voice. She knew that sentence had hurt him._

_“Don’t say that,” she said._

_He lifted his face to look into her eyes with a sad expression, “I know how East German women see Russian men. Russian soldiers. I saw how you looked at me the first time we met.” he said regretfully._

_“You were after me. And it's not like that now. You should know.”_

_Their faces were so close that Gaby would have just to lift her face slightly to bring their lips together._

_“To know what? That you don't hate Russian men now?” his eyes were locked on her._

_“I don't hate you. I don't see you that way.”_

_“Don't you see me as a Russian man?”_

_“You are only Illya. I only care about this,” She knew very well what Russian men had done to East German women like her. But Illya was not one of those men. And even though she knew that he had killed many people and done terrible things during his KGB career, Gaby couldn't stop seeing him differently. She couldn't help but trust him._

_Illya looked at her intently and pulled her closer, hiding his face in her hair._

_“Ты так дорога мне, (You are so dear to me)” he whispered very softly, Gaby couldn’t understand a word but for a moment she felt overwhelmed with emotions, she still couldn't comprehend the depth of her attachment to the young Russian. She was afraid to admit even to herself that she cared about him more and more each day. Then she suddenly remembered where they were and regained her self-control._

_“Are they still watching us?” she asked._

_Illya loosened his grip slightly, but continued to hold her in his arms._

_“Yes, two are sitting at that cafe. But there's someone else, I can't see them from here,” he answered, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. That small intimate gesture sent shivers through her spine. She sighed. “What are we going to do?”_

_“Another little tour of the city and then we can go back to the hotel.” Illya took her hand and walked towards the end of the square._

_“Do you think Solo is okay?” She knew that Solo works better alone, but she was worried anyway._

_“Cowboy can manage that by himself, don’t underestimate him.”_

_“Was that a compliment? To Solo? Where is Illya and what are you done to him?” She teased him._

_“Don't tell him I said that,” he hastened to say._

_Gaby laughed, “Okay, but you're gonna buy me a Brezel..” Her two partners really were like two little kids._

_After two hours walking around the city, they returned to the hotel._

_At the reception, a message sealed in an white envelope was waiting for Gaby. Two letters and three pairs of numbers written on a white note. Coordinates._

_As soon as they walked back to the room the telephone rang._

_It was Bohne. “I don't understand how you can bear the company of that Soviet giant.” he said in German, scornfully._

_“I don't think this is any of your concern at the moment.” Gaby answered, keeping her cool._

_“You received my message. I’ll be there on November 1st. Sitting at the cafe. I will wait for you. Come alone.” He hung up._

_Gaby turned to look at Illya, who was still near the door._

_“The meeting is confirmed. Next month.” she said, grabbing a bottle of Vodka. “Isn't it too much? To wait a whole month?”_

_“They obviously need time to get organized or get something done. If they were in a hurry, you wouldn't be here with me now.” His voice was low “Maybe the death of the Vinciguerras and the loss of the bomb’s project have destabilized them.”_

_“So should we just wait?” The sense of helplessness made her uncomfortable. She needed a drink._

_“I have something to discuss with Cowboy,” said the Russian._

_“About what?”_

_“We'll talk about it later, would you like something to eat before you start drinking?” He said sarcastically._

_Gaby shrugged, she really just wanted a drink._

_“Come on, let's order something from room service,” he insisted, but his voice was softer this time._

_Illya was still worried about her, he couldn't even hide it. So she decided to satisfy his request and they ordered room service._

_Gaby was worried about him too, but she avoided the conversation all day. They had just started dining when she decided it was time to talk._

_“Are you sure meeting your KGB boss is a good idea? I don't have a good feeling about this. And we'll be too far away to help you."_

_“I don't need any help, and as I told you this morning, I'm still in the KGB. I have to go.” he said, “In the meantime, you can finish your training. You need to improve your aim.”_

_“I already know how to shoot,” she retorted._

_“It's not enough, you have to be effective on the first shot. You may not get a second chance. Solo will train you while I’m away,” he said assertively._

_“So do you trust Solo now?” She teased him._

_“Don't worry, I'll check your progress when I arrive in London. And you need to improve in hand-to-hand combat as well.” he continued, with a small sarcastic smile._

_“As I remember I am capable of standing up to the KGB’s best.”_

_“Gaby, don't joke,” he retorted seriously._

_She knew he was thinking about that day in the rain, when Alexander Vinciguerra had nearly killed her and Solo._

_“You worry so much about me but you should think of yourself. The KGB won't forgive you so easily, you failed Vinciguerra's mission. You didn't bring them my father, or the disk.” her voice came out harder than she intended._

_She knew it was a risk to tell him so openly about his failure, and she was blown away by his reaction. Instead of getting angry, his whole posture softened._

_He reached out and took her hand._

_“Don't worry, милая, I'll be fine.”he smiled tenderly “I promised you that I would be by your side to protect you. Everything will be fine, I'll come to London and finally I’ll teach you some Russian.”_

_“Promise?” She knew there were no guarantees that he could really keep that promise._

_“Promise.” Then he whispered, so low she could barely hear him“Ты такая красивая,”( you are so beautiful)_

_Gaby was about to ask him what he had just said, when Solo sneaked into the room, without even knocking, and found them sitting at the table hand in hand._

_“Am I interrupting something?” he began, with a sly smile on his face._

_Illya quickly withdrew his hand and said, “We need to talk, Cowboy. Something still doesn't convince me.”_

_“Still paranoid Peril?” Solo retorted, sitting on the couch._

_“I think there is someone else involved in this, besides the Nazis. They weren't the only ones following us today.” Illya explained._

_“No idea who they might be? Friends or foes?”_

_“Mine or yours?” The Russian asked, “I don't have enough information to say it. At first I thought it was another agency that was on the trail of the Nazis. But we also were their mark. What about you?”_

_“Bohne took me around the city for quite a while. Then he met two people near the Prater, I took some photos. After that he went to see someone at the Italian Embassy. Let's hope our bugs worked. We should have bugged him at the museum,”_

_“It would have been too risky for Gaby, she doesn't have the experience yet,” Illya interrupted._

_“Then she has to work on it, not everyone has received your training, Peril.”_

_“Could you avoid talking about me as if I'm not there?” Gaby said, raising her voice. “I can fend for myself. I survived alone in East Berlin for years.”_

_“Yes, you are strong. But this is different. Solo and I trained for years, we were soldiers,” Illya said, then paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “We killed people...even in cold blood. You need to improve your skills.” He didn't seem proud of it. Lowering his gaze, he murmured in a low voice, “But I hope you never find yourself in the situation of having to kill someone.”_

_“So I have to kill someone to win your esteem?” Gaby retorted._

_“What are you talking about? You already have our esteem, we are merely worried about you,” Illya explained._

_“Well, the problem will be solved soon, a little training at the shooting range will be enough,” Solo added, trying to lift the gloomy atmosphere in the room.“I’ll teach you.”_

_“Don't treat me like I’m a burden to you.” She was tired of feeling like an outsider, she wanted their respect._

_“We are talking about knowing your limits and weaknesses, Gaby,” Solo said. “I believe in your abilities, you have already proven your value. But we have to teach you some more skills. And it’s your duty to improve yourself, you are part of a team now. We also need your protection. Our lives are in your hands everyday.”_

_She was silent for a moment, thinking about how she had put their lives in danger during the mission in Rome, how much her two partners had risked to save her._

_“Okay, but I won't teach you to drive,” she finally answered_

_“I'm already good at driving,” Illya objected._

_She gave him an amused look, raising an eyebrow._

_“Can I join you for dinner?” Solo asked, sitting down at the table ”I barely ate today. So we can talk a little more about our nazi friends and our accomodation in London.”_

_They ate together, talking about the progress of the mission, Illya insisted with his concern about the involvement of another organization. The next day they would have to separate, they had to be sure that Bohne's men couldn't follow Gaby to London._

_“I'll take Gaby to the airport, make sure no one follows us. We'll be able to throw them off. At most they'll follow me to East Berlin," Illya assured._

_“I'll join the Waverly team, we'll be able to block them before you arrive at the airport. I'll take the next flight to London,” Napoleon added. “Peril, can you take care of today's interceptions? I think now it's time for me to get some sleep.”_

_The American finished his drink and sneaked out of the room just as he had entered._

_Illya got up from the table and took the bag with the records that Solo had left by the door._

_“I have some work to do for a while, you can go to sleep if you want.”_

_Gaby snorted "As if I could sleep. I'll finish this nice bottle of Vodka while reading that book. I promise I'll be good," she winked. "No music tonight"_

_“Why don’t you put some_ _Rakhmaninov_ _on?” he asked._

_“Piano Concerto No 2? Won't it be too dramatic?” She smiled._

_Gaby sat on the sofa to read, sipping her vodka, occasionally peering at Illya from behind the book. The Russian listened to the recording of their bugs for hours, transcribing the parts that might be interesting. Unfortunately, the meeting between Bohne and his contact at the Embassy was not there. Illya sighed, he had hoped to get more information on the man who would once again be alone with Gaby._

_When he was done, he raised his head to see what she was doing. The room had been quiet for some time, Gaby was lying on the sofa asleep, with an empty glass in her hand._

_Illya smiled, and silently approached. She looked so sweet when she slept._

_"милая, Ты простудишься, если будешь спать тут, (Milaya,_ _You’ll catch a cold sleeping here)_ _”_

_He tried to wake her up, brushing her cheek with his hand, without success._

_Then he gently took her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, trying not to wake her, he put her to bed, covering her with blankets. Gaby still looked sound asleep. He brushed a lock of hair back from her forehead with his fingertips._

_He was about to leave when she murmured, “Illya, bleib bei mir, (Stay with me)”_

_“Ich bin hier (I’m here), Gaby.” He smiled softly. Quickly putting on his pajamas, he lay down beside her. She was half asleep, her eyes half-closed._

_“Go back to sleep now, chop shop girl.” he whispered, stroking her hair._

_After a few minutes of silence, Gaby whispered “Illya?”_

_“Mmmhh?” he hummed, drowsy._

_“When did you start the surveillance on me in East Berlin?” she asked him and Illya was so surprised by the sudden question that he immediately became lucid._

_“Earlier this year, around February,” Illya replied hesitantly, wanting to understand the real subject of their conversation._

_“It was very cold this year, I haven't remembered such a cold winter in a long time,” she murmured deadpan, still leaving the real object of her interest in suspense. Definitely she didn’t want to talk about the weather with him._

_“I had to do several night stakeouts, it was cold, but not like in Moscow.”_

_“February ... I was being bugged even while ... while I was dating -”_

_“That man, Daniel?” He interrupted, realizing what she really wanted to talk about. His body stiffened. It wasn't something that put him at ease._

_Gaby nodded silently. Illya let out a deep sigh and continued “I had just bugged your house when you two broke up.... When he left you,” his voice was low and hesitant._

_She abruptly sat up in bed and turned on the light. He did the same, worried about what he was about to reveal to her._

_She remembered that night perfectly. It was not a good memory, though._

_“I had been following you for about ten days, I had bugged only the chop shop, but I saw when he came to pick you up. Then I was also able to bug your house,” he continued. “And that was the first night I was listening to you, while you were at home,” His face showed guilt. “I'm sorry...but it's my job, I couldn't avoid it, you were just a mark.”_

_“So you listened to all he said to me that night?” She didn't seem angry but rather, embarrassed. He nodded slowly._

_“He wasn’t a good boyfriend anyways,” he said, pressing his lips together._

_Gaby lowered her head with a sigh. That February night, in Berlin, the guy she'd been dating for a few months broke up with her, blaming her for the failure of their relationship. He had called her a cold, emotionally inaccessible bitch, incapable of love. Obviously she couldn't tell him the true reason for her anxiety, her silences and her lies, she couldn't tell him that she was a British spy waiting for a contact from a group of Nazis. She couldn’t tell him about her father._

_“Do you think what he said is true?” she asked him, tentatively._

_He laughed softly. “He was just a stupid, arrogant man, глупый человек (stupid man) He didn't deserve you. I hated that guy from the start. He had it coming,” he replied. Then widened his eyes, realizing he had revealed too much._

_“Illya ... did you do something to him?” She tilted her head inquisitively._

_“Don't worry, no harm has been done to him.” He smirked. “Being connected to you I had to have him under surveillance for a while ... and then unfortunately he had some bureaucratic problems,” he added, avoiding the details._

_Gaby stifled a laugh and lay back in bed. “That night was really awful. I couldn't even defend myself. He was right and I didn't want to justify myself to him.”_

_“Tsk. He was not right,” Illya interrupted her. “You were a young woman carrying on alone in East Berlin. I saw you, working hard every day. You were just protecting yourself. It's not that easy to open up to other people when you're used to being alone.”_

_Gaby turned to look at him, she no longer knew if he was talking about her or himself._

_“But sooner or later you have to open your heart to someone if you want to let them in,” she replied. She stood still for a while, looking into his eyes, then she turned off the light again._

_In the semi-darkness he asked in a whisper, “Did you love him?” His voice sounded unsteady but Gaby couldn't see his expression._

_She was silent for a moment “No. But I liked him. I was alone for a long time.”_

_“You are not alone anymore,” he murmured, lying down beside her again. “Now try to get some sleep. London awaits you.”_

_“Make sure you join us soon, all in one piece. You have promises to keep,” she retorted._

_“I’ll do my best,” he whispered. She didn't like his answer, but she said nothing. She had insisted too much with the matter, she had to keep her anxiety under control. She knew she couldn't ask for more._

_“I'm sorry I heard such a personal matter for you,” he said softly after a while._

_“It could have been worse,” she grinned, “you could have heard something even more intimate.”_

_Illya stiffened, and she knew she had hit the mark. She always liked to tease him to see his reaction._

_“Я должен был убить его, милая,” (I should have killed him, milaya) he muttered under his breath._

_“What did you just say?” she slapped him on the shoulder, “I wanna know!”_

_“Nothing,” he answered with a grin. “Time to sleep now,_ _Gute Nacht, Gaby.” He played with a stray lock of her hair._

_“Gute Nacht, Illya” Her heart was pounding hard, she felt protected and relaxed, as only he could make her feel. She had the desire to touch him more, to get closer to him, but the more time passed the more difficult it became. The more time passed, the deeper their bond became, more than just a physical attraction. This scared her to death. They were colleagues now, whatever happened between them would have permanent consequences. It was no longer a game. Every hour she spent with him made their bond deeper, her affection greater. Lulled by these feelings, she sank into a deep sleep until morning._

_When she woke up Illya was already up, dressed and had all packed._

_The Russian that morning was focused and professional, he told her just a few words, all dry and precise instructions. But despite being in his professional mode, his tone in addressing her was always gentle and his gaze sweet. Gaby hurried to get ready, she wore a white dress and a white coat, and put some items in her suitcase. They quickly ate a small breakfast and then checked out of the Hotel._

_She expected to find a taxi outside, waiting for them, but he headed for a car parked nearby._

_“Aren't we going to take a taxi?” she asked curiously._

_“I rented this earlier this morning, it is the best option for leaving pursuers behind. Plus no one drives like you,” he opened the driver's door for her._

_“Oh! Are you admitting out loud that I drive better than you?” she retorted, with a mischievous smile._

_“We both know that I drive well, but not as good as you do,” he added, “plus I have to keep an eye on the situation in case it’s necessary to fire some shots.”_

_“Where are the others?” Gaby asked as she got into the car and sat in the driver's seat._

_“They're ready,” he said “Don't worry, Solo is leading the operation,” Then he put the suitcases in the trunk and got into the car._

_Gaby began driving around the city, seemingly aimlessly. She just wanted to calculate the number of pursuers and how to get rid of them quickly. The cars of Waverly's and Solo's men would follow them at a distance, waiting for the right moment to take action._

_“They'll know right away we're going to the airport,” she said, her eyes on the rear-view mirror._

_“It's not a problem, we just need the time to get you on the plane without them knowing where you are headed,” Illya answered. “Do you have with you the fake passport and your ticket?”_

_She nodded. He continued, “We just have to be quick. Stick to the plan and everything will be okay.”_

_She tried to hide her nervousness and kept her eyes on the road. At least driving she felt more in control of the situation._

_“I studied the itinerary, we will need to take a secondary road,” The Russian told her._

_“I can see them,”she interrupted._

_“Two cars, one blue, one green, four men. Behind them, a short distance away, there are Waverly’s operatives. Wait. Go around for a bit for now.”_

_Gaby continued to maintain a moderate speed, keeping an eye on the two cars, they were close by._

_“Do I start heading for Schwechat?”_

_“Try to detach them and take the next left, towards Simmering. Then follow the Danube.”_

_Gaby began to accelerate, trying not to overdo it and headed for Simmering district. It was still necessary to cross some districts of the city before being in a less populated area. She looked in the rearview mirror to check the situation, one of the two cars, the blue one, seemed detached, and now she could see one of Waverly's cars._

_She decided it was time to force her hand, pressed the accelerator and suddenly steered left, heading for the river._

_“Gaby,” Illya murmured, but his voice was calm and confident._

_“Don't worry, dearest, I know what I'm doing,” She was in her element, totally in control._

_She checked the situation behind them and saw that the green car was still on their trail._

_Then she increased the speed, trying to outrun their pursuers as much as possible. As soon as they reached an empty and fairly wide road, she forcefully pulled the handbrake and the car spun abruptly but controlled._

_“I remember these maneuvers of yours so well,” Illya exclaimed with a small smile._

_“In fact, it seemed to me that you enjoyed them in East Berlin,” She retorted._

_“In fact, I did. You were amazing,” He gave her a playful look._

_After changing the direction she continued to accelerate, passing by the pursuers and Waverly’s operatives' cars. She spotted Solo driving a black car._

_She went back on the path for a few hundred meters trying to increase the speed as much as possible. Behind them the other cars tried to mimic her maneuver but Solo's car took up the lane immediately after they passed, creating a momentary blockage._

_Gaby quickly swerved left and then left again heading again towards the airport._

_“Let’s say we are lucky that they don’t drive as good as you,” she said, driving faster._

_They had almost reached their destination, she checked the rear-view mirror again, she wanted to be sure she had detached them enough._

_They arrived at full speed at the International Flight Terminal, no one seemed to be able to keep up with them._

_“Leave the car there. Solo will take care of it later,” Illya instructed her._

_Gaby abruptly stopped the car and quickly parked between two cars. Illya took the bags from the trunk and helped her out of the car._

_He took her hand and they walked quickly toward the passenger terminal entrance._

_The airport was full of people even though it was still early in the morning. They headed for the check-in area but he suddenly pushed her to a corner, completely hiding her from the view of other people with his body. He leaned over her, hugging her tightly._

_"Here our paths diverge,” he whispered in her ear, “Sneak to the ladies room and change your dress, as we planned, remember the hat. When they arrive I'll make sure they follow me. Don't worry. See you in London.”_

_She stroked his face with her hand “Don't make promises you can't keep, and be careful.”_

_She felt his lips pressed to her cheek, “You too, милая”and then he let her go._

_She took her suitcase and headed quickly to the public toilets._

_As she walked fast she fought the urge to turn to look at him one last time, and suddenly she felt the anxiety rise. It was the first time since they first met they had to separate for so long. And Gaby didn't fear for herself, she feared that she would never see him again, that he would never come back from behind the Iron Curtain. The concern for him was making her lose focus, so once she was into the ladies room she took a deep breath, pressing her lips together. Then she went into one of the stalls, pulled some clothes out of her suitcase and put on a dark, knee-length dress and a large black jacket. She combed her hair into a tight bun, and wore a short blonde wig, she put on a black pillbox hat and a pair of large dark glasses._

_She grabbed all of her things, keeping her passport and ticket handy, and hurried out of the public toilets._

_She immediately went to check in, avoiding looking too much around but trying to figure out if anyone was still on her trail._

_Actually she blindly trusted the skill of her two partners, she felt safe having them covering her back. Everything went as planned, she took the flight without any setback. Solo would take the next flight, and Waverly would be waiting for her at the airport._

_But she couldn’t stop thinking about Illya, all alone in East Berlin. This thought accompanied her all the way to London and not even throwing down a few drinks could reassure her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you liked this chapter.  
> More Solo in the next one. And some angst. Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all in flashback, in 1963, in London.  
> I'm sorry I'm so late updating this chapter, but it's been a rough two weeks.  
> This chapter is a bit longer, full of fluff and dialogues. I wanted to deepen their relationship a bit more before the next few chapters, which will have more angst.  
> Thanks a lot to my beta for this chapter mrsbonniemellark (please check her stories! ),  
> English is not my first language (and I can't speak any Russian or German), so the mistakes are all mine.
> 
> Thanks to the amazing trenko_heart for helping me with German and correcting all my mistakes.

**_IV_ **

**_London, first half of October 1963_ **

_It had been about two weeks since she and Solo had arrived in London. They had settled in a three bedroom apartment owned by the U.N.C.L.E, waiting to find a better and more stable accommodation. Illya's room was still empty. He was supposed to join them a few days later, but over ten days had passed and he hadn’t contacted them in any way. Not even a phone call. Waverly hadn’t heard from him either._

_Gaby's days were filled with shooting range training and physical tests. By the end of the month, she had to pass all the agency tests and get a personal gun. This helped her keep her head busy during the day. She spent the morning at the shooting range with her American partner, he was an accurate teacher even though he usually got bored quickly._

_Her aim was improving, but she still couldn't give her best on the first shot. She needed to warm up and on the first try she was never focused enough. She was also learning to shoot with her left hand._

_After the training, she usually spent the rest of the day alone in the gym and then went to the garage. U.N.C.L.E.’s mechanical workshop was great. She could spend whole days working on one of those cars. That was her favorite part of the day._

_Then she would go home and wait for a call from Illya, which never came._

_She had also started studying some Russian, but she still didn't seem to understand much, and she didn't want to ask Solo for help._

_During the day she tried to hide her concern for the Russian and always pretend to be detached and calm._

_But at night, however, when she was completely alone, the anxiety took over her and her insomnia got worse. She stayed awake for hours and hours, desperately trying to sleep and often even after falling asleep, she woke up suddenly in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep. This made her mood worse each day. Her concentration too was wavering._

_That mid-October morning, while they were at the shooting range, after a few feeble attempts, Solo turned to her “Are you okay, Gaby? You have to stay focused or it's all for nothing.”_

_She sighed, frustrated. “I'm trying.”_

_“Maybe we better take a break, you can't even hit the target this morning,” he smiled._

_“I don't want to take a break. I don't need a break,” Her voice was irritated, but she knew his partner wasn't to blame._

_“Enough. Let's go have a coffee. Your head is clearly elsewhere today,” Solo said, taking the gun out of her hands. “Let’s go.”_

_They reached the small break-room near the firing range and Solo closed the door behind them._

_Then he poured two cups of coffee and handed her one._

_“Now, do you want to talk about what's wrong or do you want to continue pretending nothing is happening?”_

_Gaby took the cup of coffee but didn't answer. She didn't want to confide in him. She didn't want to show her vulnerability. So she just shrugged._

_“Usually you can pretend better than this, obviously it is too much to bear, even for you,” he continued._

_“I'm not in the mood for confidence, Solo. I'm just having trouble sleeping, that's all,” she replied, annoyed._

_“You have to start trusting me, Gaby. Or I can never trust you completely in return.”_

_She raised her head to look at him, “I trust you. But that doesn't mean I have to talk to you about how I feel.”_

_“Oh, so we're talking about feelings.” he urged “just say it, Gaby. There's no need to pretend. I'm also starting to worry about him.”_

_“I'm not worried about him,” She lied._

_Solo gave her a scornful look, today he was able to unmask all her lies._

_“I don't want to talk about it here, maybe at home tonight. I'll go get the job done on that car,” she said, finishing her coffee and leaving the room._

**_-_ **

_Gaby spent the whole day in the garage, and working on the cars brought her good spirits back.She was able to concentrate solely on work and not think about Illya for a few hours. When she was back home that night, after taking a bath and changing in more comfortable clothes, she found Solo waiting for her in the living room._

_“Shall we finish our last conversation?” the American said as soon as he saw her._

_Gaby still didn't want to talk about her worries, and she was tired. She dropped onto the sofa with a deep sigh._

_“Okay, I'm starting to think he's never coming back,” she said. “But I'm not worried. He probably prefers serving his beloved Mother Russia than working with us.”_

_“In fact it would be like him. But I don't think he is away by his will. I don't think he would have left you without even a word of farewell.”_

_“You are overestimating the nature of our relationship. There is really nothing between us, he does not owe me any special greetings,” she replied._

_“If you say so, Gaby,” the mockery in his voice was evident, “but you get less and less convincing with each passing day.”_

_“Could you avoid analyzing our every action for once?” she retorted, annoyed._

_“Not if my life depends on you two,” he said seriously. “Look, I usually don't like working with other people, but we're partners now. We all have to work hard to make this partnership successful. Our past has been a bit stormy, but if we don't trust each other blindly, all this collaboration can't work.”_

_“So you blindly trust Illya now?” she snorted._

_“We're working on it. Peril saved my life twice, and he could have shot me in Rome for that disk but he chose not to. And if he's in trouble now it might be because of me too,” he stated with his usual composure._

_“So you think he's really in trouble with the KGB?” she asked him._

_“I honestly don't think he'll get away with destroying the disk. Even if he blames me, he'll still be punished,” he explained._

_“Do you think he's okay? Will they let him come back to work with us?” Now she was no longer pretending, and her concern emerged strongly._

_“I don't think he's in danger of life. And Waverly assured me that Oleg has given his word on Peril’s involvement in our team,” he reassured her._

_“Couldn't he contact us at least once? Just to let us know he's okay,” she murmured in a low tone._

_“I don't think he can contact us now, or he already would. We can only wait. And try to improve your aim,” Solo said, trying to cheer her up a little. “We're halfway through a mission, they'll let him come back to finish the job.”_

_“Yes, but what happens next? Will they make him stay with us?” As soon as those words came out of her mouth, she immediately regretted saying them. She was showing her attachment to Illya too openly._

_He only sighed, “Gaby, our work is not the most suitable for a certain type of bond. Especially between operatives of opposing factions. I don't know what happened between you two but-” he started saying but she cut him off._

_“Nothing happened between us! I'm just worried about him.” She couldn't believe her words either._

_“Peril is clearly smitten with you, it's so obvious it could be a risk for his life,”_

_“Don't say it. Don't give me this burden to bear too,” she said, standing up. “He's just very protective of me, that’s all,”_

_“Relationships in our work are complicated, which is why I have avoided any kind of bond for years. But if the bond is already there, and in your case it seems obvious to me, you must be aware of the risk and be prepared to face the consequences.”_

_“You keep talking about bonds but I don't even know how I feel,” she replied._

_“Don't know how you feel about him or just don't want to admit it? Not even to yourself? Look, I've been watching you for a long time. At first I thought you were just playing with him. I couldn't understand how you actually felt about him. But now I think you feel something about him too. Certainly some kind of … attachment.”_

_“You take Illya's feelings for granted, but he's a spy too. Who tells you he's not been deceiving us from day one?” she insisted._

_“I have my doubts about that. Peril never intended to hide his feelings from you. And I saw his reaction to your betrayal.”_

_“Illya and I are just friends, Solo. Do we care for each other? Yes. But there is nothing more between us. We are just friends and partners,” she said firmly, as if she was trying to convince not only him but herself._

_“But-”_

_“And I don't want to talk about this anymore. You can trust me without trying to get inside my head,” she interrupted him again. “I'm not giving you a third-degree questioning about your multiple love affairs.”_

_“Okay, got it. But try to keep in mind that I'm on your side. Yours and Illya’s,” he smiled charmingly._

_“Thank you for your concern. Can I have a drink now?”_

_“Of course, my lady,” Solo answered, handing her a glass of vodka._

_“I noticed that you have started studying the Russian language,” he continued with a sly smile._

_“I can't stand it when you and Illya talk Russian to each other. I never understand what you're talking about.” She took the glass and sipped her drink._

_“And how is the study going?”_

_“Very badly, to tell the truth I don't know where to start. I should have studied it better when I was in school. But I don't even remember the alphabet. For now I've barely begun to study Cyrillic letters again,” Gaby explained._

_“Try to learn some words, we'll take care of the rest later,” he said, standing up from the armchair._

_“Are you going out?” she asked him._

_“Tomorrow we have the morning off, so I'm going to the pub. Would you like to join me?” he smiled at her._

_“No, thanks, I'm tired. I'll stay here and listen to some music.” She knew exactly how Solo's evening would end._

_“I left your dinner ready on the kitchen’s counter. See you tomorrow,” Solo said, taking his jacket._

_She gave him a slight nod, then she got to her feet and went to the kitchen. After reheating the dinner, she took the plate and went back to the living room, turned on the television and sat down to eat on the couch. She had to admit that the American had cooking among his many talents. After eating she took a soft blanket and lay down on the sofa, sipping a few drinks, hoping that fatigue would take over and she would finally be able to sleep a few hours._

_It was about two in the morning when a noise at the front door of the apartment woke her up suddenly. The room was dark, lit only by the light coming from the still on TV. It couldn't be Solo. He usually never returned from his nights out before dawn. She was unarmed, so she looked around for some object to use as a defense weapon. But as soon as she saw the silhouette of the man in the doorway, she recognized him immediately._

_“Illya,” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet._

_“I'm sorry I woke you up, but it seemed wiser to announce my arrival with some noise.”_

_“How did you know about this flat? How did you get the keys?” she asked him as she walked towards him. He was still standing in the doorway with his suitcase in hand._

_“I've been with Waverly until now to report and resume duty. He told me to settle down here. Cowboy is here too?”_

_“Yes, we're all here, but take off your jacket, put down that suitcase at least.” Now she was beside him, and she placed a hand on his forearm. “Solo has gone out for a drink. He won't be back until tomorrow. When did you arrive? Did you eat anything?”_

_He didn't answer her questions, she still couldn't see his face clearly in the semi-darkness of the room._

_“Sorry, I didn't mean to fill you with questions,” she continued, and walking towards the switch, she turned on the light._

_“I arrived in London 5 hours ago. I'm not hungry, thanks,” he answered her. His voice sounded strange, almost mechanical. It almost sounded like someone else's. He finally let the suitcase on the floor._

_“How did it go in Berlin?” Gaby was hesitant, but the desire to know was too strong. But when she turned to look at his face she knew that something was wrong._

_Illya held his head tilted to one side as if to hide the right side of his face from her._

_“Sorry, but I can't talk about it,” he said in a monotone. “It's classified.”_

_“Illya,” Gaby murmured, approaching him again “what’s wrong? What are you hiding from me? Look at me please, come on,” her hand grabbed his left arm, pulling him towards her to force him to turn around._

_For the first time since he had entered the room, he turned to look at her but didn't say a word._

_Gaby gasped. A split lower lip, a swollen cheekbone, and a black eye were clearly visible on the right side of his face. As soon as he saw her reaction, he turned away again._

_“What happened to you?” Her voice sounded worried and angry at the same time._

_“It's nothing. I was on a mission,” He said, freeing his arm from her grip. “Where is my room? I need to sleep.”_

_He tried to leave the room but she stood in front of him, blocking his way out._

_“Wait, tell me what happened,” she insisted, pressing both hands to his sternum in an attempt to block him. As soon as she put a little pressure on his chest, she saw his face twist in pain. She suddenly removed her hands from him, and saw that they were stained with blood. “Was ist denn-”( What is -) She exclaimed._

_The entire left side of his dark turtleneck was soaked in blood, clearly from a wound that had reopened._

_Gaby was furious, she raised her head to meet his gaze._

_“That’s enough, take off your_ _sweater_ _, let me see,” she ordered, peremptorily._

_He sighed but obeyed, took off his jacket and dropped it to the floor. The inner lining was stained with blood. She hastened to pull his shirt up, leaving him exposed._

_His chest was bandaged, but the bandage was now completely wet with his blood._

_“Gaby, let me do this alone,” he whispered, now his tone had changed, no longer monotonous and cold. He looked vulnerable and ashamed._

_“What is this? When did it happen?” she asked him, ignoring his request to be left alone._

_“A couple of stab wounds. Two days ago.”_

_“What about the other bruises? Some don't look that recent.” She took his hand and led him to the nearest chair, forcing him to sit down. She took off his turtleneck, dropping it to the floor._

_“Those are previous,” he murmured in a low voice._

_“From when? Who did these?” Gaby already knew the answer. She knew what had caused some of those injuries. And it had nothing to do with a mission._

_“I can't tell you about it. I'm fine, don't worry.”_

_“Stop talking rubbish, let me see the wounds.” Her tone was harsh, but she was just trying to control her emotions. “Wait, I'm going to find something to patch you up.”_

_“It's all in my suitcase, let me do it. I don't want you to see me like that,” He sighed._

_“It's a little late for that,” She retorted, not intending to leave him alone._

_He got up and walked over to his suitcase, opened it, took out the emergency kit and handed it to her._

_“Come back here and sit down,” she ordered him._

_She gently began to remove the bandage, dropping it to the floor. At the sight of his wounds, she felt a lump tighten in her throat._

_“This is deep. Who gave you the stitches?”_

_“I did it myself. There was no time to get medicated.”_

_“What does it mean you had to do it yourself? You get stabbed and they send you back to us without even a medical examination?”_

_Illya was silent._

_“I don't know how you managed to mend the wound on your side by yourself. But it reopened. I have to fix it.”_

_“Please let me do it,” he repeated._

_“Cut it out, we are partners, it will only be the first time we have to stitch each other up. Don’t you trust me?” Her voice became softer as she stroked his face with her hand._

_He snorted. “Of course I trust you. But I'm used to taking care of myself. I told you; I don't want you to see me like this,”_

_“But I want to see you like this and be next to you if you need me. I want to take care of you too if I can.” Her voice was soft and confident._

_His face changed to that very sweet expression, which he reserved only for her and his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something in response, but then he just smiled at her._

_“You're losing a lot of blood, I have to clean the wound first. Here, drink this,” she told him, holding a bottle of vodka. She started dabbing the wound and disinfecting it._

_“No, thank you I've endured worse. Where did you learn to stitch?" he asked, gritting his teeth._

_“My mother taught me how to do it, she often helped our acquaintances, but also strangers. And it’s useful to know some first aid if you work in a garage,” she replied, remaining focused on the work to be done. She was upsetted by the idea that such a wound was just normal for him. How many times had he been stabbed before? Injured?_

_With a quick glance at his naked torso full of scars of various sizes, she realized what he might have experienced in his life. But the fact that he got so used to this kind of life, to being used that way, made her unbelievably angry._

_“You should take better care of yourself,” she murmured. She knew it was a stupid sentence to say to a KGB agent._

_“Sometimes you have to take certain risks to reach the target.” He paused for a moment and then added, in a lower tone “I'm sorry if the sight of my scars upsets you.”_

_She raised her head for a moment, incredulous, “You’re kidding, aren't you? There is really nothing about your body that upsets me.” She realized only a moment later what she had confessed, her eyes widened and then she lowered her head again, hiding her blush from him.“I mean your scars aren't a problem for me,” she continued._

_He laughed softly, “I got it, you don't need to specify.”_

_“Now you will have to stay still more than that if I have to stitch you back.”_

_Gaby slowly started stitching his wound, trying to keep her hand as still as possible, she wanted to do a good job in hopes of not leaving an ugly scar._

_“Don't worry, you're doing great,” Illya's voice was calm and reassuring, although every time the needle penetrated his skin, his chest jerked softly and he held his breath for a moment._

_“I'm almost done. I'm doing the bandages again.” She gave the last stitches and began to cover the wound with clean bandages. “But why didn't you ask Waverley to go to the infirmary at the headquarters?”_

_"I didn't want to spend the night alone in the infirmary, I wanted to come here ... and see my fiance as soon as possible."_

_“Du bist ein Narr (You're a fool),” she chuckled. "And I'm not even your fiance."_

_Trying to ignore the sensation of heat that grew in her chest, she finished with the bandaging. But when she raised her head to look at him and found his eyes on her, she couldn't resist the urge to touch him and ran her left hand through his hair, then resting it on the back of his neck._

_“You never even made a phone call. You said you'd come in a few days, weeks have gone by without news.”_

_“I'm sorry. I couldn't contact anyone where I was,” he murmured._

_“As far as I knew you could have died, or returned to Russia forever.”_

_Illya put his right hand on her hip and gently drew her to him._

_“But I'm here now,” he circled her waist with her right arm, slowly, as if to give her time to free herself from his embrace, if she wanted to._

_“Won't you tell me what happened in East Berlin?” She asked him while stroking his face with her right hand._

_He hugged her waist with both arms, and rested his forehead on her collarbone._

_“I can't. Please can we avoid this subject?”_

_She sighed, this was a preview of what it meant to be in a relationship with a spy. Waiting for news for weeks, not knowing if he was dead or alive, having to respect his secrets and silences. That feeling that she had denied existed only a few hours earlier in her discussion with Solo, which she had been trying to smother for months, grew more and more every moment. She felt their bond growing stronger, preventing them both from turning back._

_She then hugged him without saying anything and she felt his embrace tighten._

_They held each other for a while, Gaby didn't know how long they had been like that, for a second or maybe an hour._

_“You need to rest now, take a painkiller and go to sleep,” she told him as she stroked the back of his neck. “Come on, I'll show you your room.”_

_Illya just nodded, released his embrace and stood up._

_She took the suitcase and followed it down the hallway to the room they had reserved for him._

_“Next door is Solo's room. Mine is at the end of the hallway.”_

_Then she put a hand on his shoulder to draw him to her and gave him a light kiss on the cheek._

_“Schlaf gut, lieber Bär” (Sleep well, dear bear.)_

_“Was?” (What?) He exclaimed amused, his eyes widening._

_“Illya Kuryakin, you do not have a monopoly on affectionate pet names.” She laughed, walking away along the corridor to her room._

_“Goodnight, little chop shop girl.” he replied before she disappeared behind her door._

_That night Gaby managed to fall asleep, exhausted by the day's events, but her sleep was not peaceful. She dreamed of fighting, shooting and blood, and she suddenly woke up several times, filled again with an unpleasant sensation._

**_-_ **

_At the first light of dawn, Solo returned home, moving with stealth, so as not to make noise and avoid waking Gaby._

_He just needed a coffee badly. As soon as he entered the apartment, he immediately noticed that there was something strange, different. After a few steps he found himself at the door of the living room, and saw a jacket and a dark sweater scattered on the ground. Next to a chair lay a blood-soaked medical bandage._

_He immediately drew the pistol from its shoulder holster and walked silently down the hall. He recognized Illya's clothing immediately, but it remained to be clarified why he was injured._

_Then he reached the kitchen, entering silently and immediately recognized the figure standing in front of the sink, with his back to him._

_“I thought you were able to enter the house quietly, Cowboy. Not much for a thief of your reputation,” the Russian said without turning to face him._

_“You could have left fewer traces of your arrival scattered around the house, Peril,” Solo replied, holstering the pistol. “What happened? The living room looks like a battlefield.”_

_“Nothing, I had a wound reopened and Gaby insisted on stitching it up for me.” Illya answered, turning slightly in his direction._

_“Did she stitch you up? She always has hidden talents, our girl. But you could use the bathroom, right?” He sat at the kitchen table, “As far as I can understand, the meeting with your superiors didn't go very well, can you talk about it?”_

_The Russian turned to him, leaning against the kitchen counter, showing the bruises on his face._

_“I don't think so. Let's just say I got away with it.”_

_“Did you get away with it? Luckily they didn't send you back in a body bag then,” the American joked. “Punitive missions aside, what was so urgent? Was it for the disk?”_

_“Yes. But not only that.”_

_“Gaby was very worried about you.”_

_“That is also why I can’t tell her anything about what happened in East Berlin,” he said, starting to make coffee._

_“Did they interrogate you for information about us?”_

_Illya didn't answer, he just looked at him with a dark expression._

_Napoleon immediately understood the real topic of the conversation. The KGB didn’t like that their best spy shared his loyalty between his Motherland and two foreign spies. And clearly in Rome, he had chosen a side, even risking his life and reputation._

_“I just want to ask you a favor. Keep an eye on her,” murmured the Russian._

_“But you are always there to protect her, my presence would be superfluous,” Solo replied with a sly smile. But he knew the meaning behind his request. Evidently the peculiar fondness that the KGB special agent had for the young German girl had not gone unnoticed by his superiors._

_“Rather, how do you plan to handle the relationship between the two of you, doing this job -”_

_“There is no romantic relationship between me and Gaby,” Illya exclaimed sharply._

_“For now, maybe. She says the same, but I think it's only a matter of time, for both of you. Sooner or later you will give in, Peril.”_

_“It won't happen. And that's none of your business, anyway,” The Russian handed him a cup of hot coffee._

_“How boring you both are. You two repeat the same things over and over again. However, as your partner, these things also concern me,” he said sipping his coffee. “You clearly are fond of her, maybe even a little more,” Solo told him bluntly. Illya gave him a dirty look. “And I know how disliked certain individualism are in your beloved homeland. A good Soviet man should never be distracted by frivolous feelings, correct me if I’m wrong.”_

_The Russian was still silent. At this point it was useless to deny, his American partner had already guessed everything._

_“I know our partnership is still shaky, but I trust you and I know you trust me,” Napoleon continued._

_“That’s exactly why you have to promise me. I can only trust you, Cowboy.”_

_That straightforward statement amazed Solo, Illya rarely showed his feelings so openly._

_“Okay, then. If anything happens to you, or if you don't come back, I'll take care of her, you have my word.” he assured him. “At least you've stopped denying that you have feelings for her.”_

_“The point is not what I feel, but that she is not targeted for it, we already have those Nazis to worry about.”_

_“Is there still something that doesn't convince you?” Solo asked him._

_“They wait a month for the meeting, constantly changing Countries, there are other agencies involved ... things may not be what they seem.”_

_“We'll see, in the meantime let's keep our eyes open,” he agreed. “And let's keep this between us for now.”_

_Illya nodded, finishing his coffee._

_In that moment, Gaby came into the kitchen still in her pajamas._

_“What are you talking about at this time in the morning?” she exclaimed as she approached the stove._

_At that moment Illya handed her a cup of coffee. “Good morning,” he smiled softly at her._

_“How are you feeling this morning? Were you able to sleep with that wound? Do you want me to check it?” She asked, trying not to sound too worried._

_“You haven't told me what happened yet, Peril.”_

_“Nothing to worry about, just a couple of stab wounds, normal business,” he explained. “Anyway we have to get ready, Waverly is waiting for us in his office."_

_Napoleon huffed. “Didn't we have the morning off? I wanted to go to the tailor.”_

_“Change of plans. Your stylish suits will have to wait, Cowboy.”_

**_-_ **

_An hour later they were in Waverly's office, awaiting further instructions._

_Their boss was already at work, analyzing some reports._

_“Very well, chaps. You're all finally reunited. I would say we can now complete the formalities before your next mission,” he said calmly. “Miss Teller must first complete her training and pass the required tests. Then you will begin preparing for Paris.”_

_“Is the meeting confirmed, Sir?” Solo asked._

_“Nothing has changed, the plan remains the same, Mr. Bohne seems to be in Italy at the moment. We don't know exactly where_ _the Becks are_ _now. We have momentarily lost track of them. But I have one team working on it.”_

_“So the next destination remains Paris.”_

_“Exactly, Solo. I'll give you precise instructions before we leave. For now, let's worry about Miss Teller's training and giving Kuryakin the time to recover from his injuries.”_

_“I’m fine, Sir,” Illya said, in a monotone._

_“This is for me to decide. Now I leave you to your training. Later I want your report on my desk, Kuryakin.”_

_As soon as they left the office, Napoleon glanced at his Soviet partner. “What the hell are you going to write in that report?” he chuckled._

_“Don't worry about that. I'm taking Gaby to the shooting range, I want to see her progress. Are you coming with us?”_

_“I have better things to do today, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes, Gabs” he exclaimed, winking at his young German partner. “If you need me, I'll be at the gym.”_

_Leaving Napoleon to his training, Gaby led Illya to the shooting range, located in the basement of the building. She took her bag from the locker and started getting ready._

_“Which gun are you practicing with?” he asked her._

_She handed him the gun she had been using for a few weeks._

_“A Walther PPK, a good choice for you. Are you happy with it? Do you find it handy?”_

_“I like it, it’s German, like me,” she said with a smirk._

_“Let's start, then.”_

_Illya took up his position in the stall next to her and began firing his Makarov._

_Gaby knew his aim was excellent, but she couldn't help but be amazed that he always scored perfectly even with two serious chest wounds._

_When it was her turn to shoot she made the mistake she made almost every day, she was unable to score immediately with the first shot. She was always too imprecise. The second and third attempts were already better._

_Illya approached her, towering over her in all his height._

_He took her right hand in his, while she was still holding the gun._

_“You are too tense, relax your arm. You have to stay focused, whatever happens.”_

_He reloaded her gun and handed it back to her. Leaning over her, he took her hand, raised her arm, aiming at the target._

_He placed his other hand next to her left side, brushing her hip, whispered into her left ear, “Try again now.”_

_“It's not easy to concentrate in these conditions,” she replied. He must have known that having him so close had some effect on her, she wanted to nudge him but she remembered his injuries and just sighed._

_“That's the point,” he chuckled. “Relax, and focus on the target.”_

_She took a deep breath, trying to control her heartbeat._

_“Zeig mir, was du drauf hast", (Show me what you can do)” he whispered in her native tongue._

_Controlling her anxiety had always been her biggest problem. She often seemed cold and controlled, but sometimes her shaking hands betrayed her. For this reason, she found it so difficult to score at the first try._

_Teased by Illya, she wanted to show him that she could be at his level, and she fired at the target._

_“This is fine, good score,” he stated. “Now let's try again, with the moving target.”_

_Sessions at the shooting range with Illya were much more exhausting for her, Illya was a much more demanding and attentive instructor than Solo, although incredibly patient. Gaby had feared his outbursts of anger, but during the morning he never lost his temper with her._

_That didn't mean he wasn't inflexible, making her repeat things over and over again. By the end of the morning, she was exhausted._

_“Can we finish here for today? I've been shooting for hours,” she pleaded. “I can't take it anymore, my arm hurts.”_

_“You did well. Let's join Cowboy at the gym.”_

_When she realized that the grueling Soviet training wasn't over yet, she rolled her eyes._

_“I don't have to join the KGB, you know?” she snorted as they headed to the locker room. “I can't meet your expectations”_

_“Tsk, you're already doing it,” he said softly. “Don't underestimate yourself.”_

_Before going to the gym, they stopped in the break room to have a coffee._

_They found the American chatting with two young blonde colleagues._

_Gaby giggled “Obviously this is the training he prefers.”_

_“He is always so predictable,” Illya grunted._

_She noticed that all the eyes of the people in the gymnasium were on them. Evidently a two-meter Russian spy didn't go unnoticed._

_She saw that many were whispering to each other, glancing in their direction._

_Solo approached them with a mischievous smile, “So, what do we want to do today?”_

_“I was thinking about teaching Gaby some judo basics. Given her build, it might be useful to exploit her opponent's greater strength.”_

_“And I guess that opponent will have to be me, since you are injured, Peril.” Napoleon smiled._

_They continued to train in hand-to-hand combat throughout the day with a short break for lunch._

_Illya, unable to take part in the training, kept shouting instructions and correcting Gaby, in an attempt to teach her some judo basics._

_He ended up correcting Solo too, either because of his position or concentration. By the end of the afternoon, the two of them were exhausted and full of murderous instincts towards their Russian partner._

_“Look, we're not at the KGB here, after a while you have to give us a break,” Solo blurted out when training was over._

_“I thought you were the best in the CIA, Cowboy. Gaby fights better than you.”_

_“Wait until you recover, then we'll talk about it, comrade,” he said with a big fake smile._

_“Gaby, we have to work harder on the holds tomorrow. You have to use his weight and his greater strength to your advantage.”_

_“Have mercy on me, Illya, please,” she muttered in response. She just wanted to take a shower and go home. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that two colleagues were still in the gym staring at them, she pretended to ignore them and headed for the changing room._

**_-_ **

_Back home, Napoleon cooked something for dinner. They dined together at the kitchen table. Gaby was very tired from the long day, and she hoped she could finally sleep in peace that night._

_Despite his hard training, Napoleon was determined to go out for a drink. But his partners were too tired and battered to accept his invitation to join him at the Cocktail Bar. He didn't want to miss a few good nights in the London clubs, where he could finally enjoy life and meet some beautiful girls._

_Gaby also wanted to finally relax a bit, after weeks of worrying about Illya, and going out for a drink, but the Soviet-style training was a bit too much for her._ _Besides, even if she didn't want to admit it, she preferred to stay at home in case Illya needed her. Ridiculous thought, because she knew he would never ask her for help, he couldn't stand her seeing him weak or in need of other people's help. His pride as a Russian man didn’t allow him to be vulnerable._

_Illya at dinner talked less than usual, even if he tried not to look sore, his face bore the marks of fatigue._

_As Solo prepared to go out, Gaby tried to get him to take another painkiller._

_“I don't need it,” he replied. “I'm fine. I just need to change the bandage and get some sleep.”_

_“You still have to take antibiotics, you can't risk an infection,” she insisted._

_He opened his mouth to retort but she cut him off by raising a hand._

_“No, I don't want to hear any objections. Take your meds and go to sleep for a while. I'll be in the living room reading. No music tonight.”_

_He obeyed without complaining, swallowed the pills with a sip of water and then, noticing the books set aside on the sofa, partially hidden by a blanket, asked her,_

_“What are you reading?”_

_She didn't want to confess that she actually started studying Russian on her own._

_She also didn’t like to show herself in need of help, not even when it was about learning his native language. It was already difficult to endure his shooting and combat lessons all day._

_“Nothing special, a book I found here around the house. I lost the Brecht book I was reading in Vienna somewhere.”_

_Illya just gave a small smile as he got up to go to his room._

_“Gute Nacht, kleines Mädchen.”( Goodnight, little girl)_

_She snorted, hearing the pet name he had used for her, “Gute Nacht, Illya.”_

_Gaby settled on the sofa and began studying, pouring herself a glass of vodka._

_Following Solo's advice,_ _she was trying to broaden her vocabulary, memorizing as many words as possible. And at the same time she was also trying to understand the grammar rules. Unfortunately she couldn't remember much of what she was reading. Now she blamed herself for never having seriously studied the Russian language when she was in school. Russian was taught in East German schools, but she hated Russia and the Soviet so much that she always refused to study it. She preferred to invest her time studying English, dreaming of escape and freedom. At some point she also began to skip classes, to stay home and work in the garage._

_She had been reading for about an hour when she heard dull noises coming from Illya's room._

_With the book still in her hand, she stood up to check if everything was okay._

_She put her ear against the door of his room and heard muffled noises again and then she heard something falling. Alarmed, she opened the door slightly, and looked inside the room to see what was happening._

_Illya was lying on the bed, shirtless, his bandage slightly stained with blood._

_He seemed to be asleep, but he fidgeted, tossing and turning in bed, as if in a nightmare. In the heat, he had knocked over the lamp that was next to the bed to the floor._

_Gaby immediately walked into the room, worried. In a moment, she was beside the bed. At first, she was almost afraid to approach him. If he was having a nightmare, he might feel threatened by her proximity and react badly._

_But when she heard a muffled painful moan come out of his lips, instinct overcame her and she put a hand to his face, stroking it._

_“Illya, it's just a nightmare,” she whispered, dropping the book she still had in her hand to the floor, and moving closer to the bed._

_Under the touch of her hand, she felt his face burn. He kept fidgeting in bed, muttering words in Russian that she couldn't understand._

_“Illya, I'm here, you're safe,” she continued, reassuringly, placing her other hand on his left shoulder._

_Suddenly, he widened his eyes, still in terror. His breathing was agitated, he was sweating, and his temperature was way too high._

_“Габи .... это ты? Где же я?”(Gaby, is that you? Where am I?) He whispered, not realizing she couldn't understand him._

_“Illya, I'm here,” she repeated, trying to calm him down. Seeing him so vulnerable upset her. “You have a fever.”_

_“невозможно!” (impossible!) he retorted, shaking his head._

_This time, even though she didn't understand Russian, she got the sense of what he was saying. He seemed like a little kid. She tried to get up to go get something to cool him with, but he held her back by taking her hand._

_“милая, останься со мной, прошу тебя,” (Sweetheart, stay with me, please) he pleaded._

_Gaby was so amazed listening to his heartbreaking tone, that, even though she didn’t understand a word, she felt the urgent need to calm him down._

_“Don't worry, I'll be right back.” She squeezed his big hand in hers and went into the bathroom to get some towels, a bucket of cold water, and some medicine to lower his fever._

_When she returned to the room, she found him still delirious, turning over in bed murmuring words in his native language._

_“I have to get your fever down,” she said as she ran a wet cloth over his face to freshen it up. “You have to take these medicines.”_

_She was afraid that the fever was due to his wounds and cursed that Solo was not there with her to help. She managed to get him to take the pills with a sip of cold water._

_“я хочу быть с тобой,”(I want to be with you) he whispered to her, while she tried to cover him with a blanket._

_“Illya, if you speak Russian, I don't understand you,” she answered, brushing away the blond hair from his forehead to put the damp cloth on it._

_“Я тебя не предам,” (I will not betray you) he continued to murmur, “И я защищу тебя от всего,” (and I will protect you from everything)_ _then he caressed her face with his hand,_ _“ты такая красивая…” (you are so beautiful)_

_Gaby didn't need the translation of those sentences, his adoring gaze and the sweetness in his caresses made her heart skip a beat anyways._

_She tried to formulate a sentence with a sense of fulfillment, but the words stopped in her throat. She then continued to wipe his face with the damp cloth, without saying anything, but with her gaze locked on him._

_Illya continued to look at her intently, his face flushed with fever, his lips slightly parted. His hand continued to caress her face gently, he slowly brushed her lower lip with his thumb, once, twice, three times. Gaby froze, holding her breath._

_“Я в самом деле хочу тебя поцеловать,” (I really want to kiss you) he whispered._

_She felt the tension build between them. She had seen that look in his eyes before, several times. She knew what was going to happen. When he gently drew her to him, she didn't resist. Their faces came closer slowly, she could feel his breath on her skin._

_But suddenly Gaby remembered his feverish state, and hesitated. She didn't want to kiss him while he was so vulnerable and not himself. She wanted him to remember that kiss as a special moment, and not as a vague memory in the feverish delirium._

_So as soon as her lips were almost touching his, she slowly turned her head, giving him a little kiss on the corner of his mouth. Then, moving slowly, she gave him a kiss on the cheek._

_“Illya, you need to rest, you still have a high fever,” she sighed, against his cheek._

_“Я никогда не чувствовал того, что чувствую к тебе.” (I’ve never felt what I feel for you)_

_She let the warmth of his body envelop her, resting her head against his shoulder._

_After a few minutes, she realized that he had fallen asleep, holding her in his arms. She decided to stay in that position so as not to wake him up, and after a while she also fell asleep._

_After a couple of hours, in the middle of the night, Gaby woke up, still wrapped in Illya's arms. He, still asleep, had sweat on his forehead, and the fever seemed to have subsided. She slowly tried to free herself from his embrace, but in that moment he woke up. He seemed more lucid this time, obviously the medicines had taken effect. After a moment, he realized he was embracing her, and loosened his grip to allow her to move._

_“What happened?” he asked her._

_“You had a nightmare, I went in to see how you were,” she got up on one elbow, to look him in the face. “You had a high fever, but now it's down. And at least now you speak an understandable language.”_

_“What?” Illya seemed to remember nothing of what happened before, which heartened her about the missed kiss._

_“Earlier, you only spoke Russian. I have no idea what you said, but the fever certainly makes you more talkative.”_

_His eyes widened and his ears turned even redder._

_“Did I do something I shouldn't have?”_

_She smiled, “Nothing in particular, I just want to know what you said. It sounded like something important.”_

_Illya seemed relieved by her words, “Probably it’s better that I only spoke in Russian.”_

_“I don't think they were Soviet State’s secrets.”_

_He lifted himself slightly, sitting up on the bed, leaning against the wall, continuing to hug her._

_“I'm sorry you had to look after me,” he held her tight again._

_She stroked his hair, ruffled by restless sleep, smiling slightly._

_“What matters now is that you are feeling better. I was afraid your wounds were infected.”_

_He was silent for a few minutes, watching her intently, while she stroked his hair._

_“Nobody has ever looked after me since they took me away from my mother.”_

_“You were taken away from her?” she asked cautiously, like every time Illya talked about his past._

_“My mother did everything she could to keep me with her, to protect me. But in the end they took me away to train me.”_

_“How old were you?”_

_“14 years old. They took me to a military school. I could only see my mother during the New Year holidays.”_

_“Only once a year?” For a moment, her heart aching to imagine that little boy locked up against his will, away from the only affection he had left. “And what was the school like?”_

_“I do not wanna talk about it.” He cut her short._

_Gaby brushed the scar near his right eye with her fingertips. “And what was your mother like?” she asked him._

_“She had long brown hair, but she always kept it tied up. She was a little taller than you, and she was beautiful.”_

_She smiled, Illya always got emotional when it came to his parents. The tenderness that he usually kept locked in himself, emerged._

_Holding her closer, he slowly began to stroke her hair. He took one of her locks and slowly slipped it through his long fingers._

_“Твои волосы темные, как ее,” (Your hair is dark as hers) he murmured softly, “мне нравятся твои волосы.” (I like your hair)_

_“Again? Enough with Russian!” she reacted, annoyed, “What did you say?”_

_“ I like your hair,” he found the courage to translate only a part of it._

_Still stroking her hair, he turned his head and saw the book on the floor._

_“Hey, but it's a Russian grammar book,” he exclaimed. “Have you started studying? You didn't tell me anything,” he gave her a satisfied smile._

_“Having you as an inflexible teacher was enough for today.”_

_“What have you learned so far?”_

_“Nothing. I can't remember anything. Well, the alphabet,” she explained._

_“Maybe when you understand some Russian I'll tell you,”_

_“What?”_

_“You'll know,_ _милая_ _” His lips twitched. “Tomorrow we will study a little together after dinner.”_

_Gaby snorted, rolling her eyes._

_“We'll see how you feel tomorrow,” she retorted. “I don't think you have to go to work tomorrow. Stay home and rest.” In uttering the last sentence she had softened the tone of her voice, and brought her hand back to his face._

_For a moment, they looked into each other's eyes intensely, without saying anything. Then she added, “Let's sleep a little more, what do you think?”_

_He obeyed, lying back on the bed, without loosening the embrace in which he held her. Then he took the blanket and covered them both, still holding onto each other._

_Illya knew this was terribly dangerous for both of them, but he didn't intend to give up on what he felt. He didn't intend to give up on her._

_Gaby snuggled up on him and closed her eyes. For the first time in weeks, she felt relaxed and protected. He was here beside her, not lost somewhere beyond the Iron Curtain. Sometimes she tried to interpret her feelings, she knew since Rome that she was inexorably attracted to him, but she still didn't understand the depth of her feelings for him. She was just happy to have him next to her. She just wanted to be close to him._

_When Solo returned, around three in the morning, he found the living room empty but with the lights on. As he walked down the hall heading to his own room, noticing Illya's room door open, he glimpsed inside._

_He couldn't help but hold back a soft laugh, “No romantic relationship, at all.”_

_On the bed Illya and Gaby slept embracing each other, wrapped in a white blanket. The American left the door open and went to his room. “Ah, those two fools,” he laughed again, before closing the door of his room._

**_-_ **

_The next morning Gaby woke up still hugging Illya. He was awake and staring at the ceiling, absorbed in his thoughts. As soon as he sensed that she was awake too, he turned his head towards her._

_“Guten Morgen,” (Good Morning) he whispered, holding her closer and brushing her forehead with his lips._

_A shiver ran through her body. The intimacy between them grew stronger with every moment they shared together, and soon Gaby would no longer be able to resist the temptation to let herself go completely. This thought frightened her but at the same time excited her terribly. She realized that every instant of intimacy they shared also brought them closer to the danger and consequences that their emotional involvement would surely entail. Yet she didn't want to give up those moments. She just wanted to keep him close to her as much as possible._

_“Guten Morgen, Illya,” she replied, “let me check if you still have a fever.”_

_“I'm fine,” he reassured her quickly._

_“I still think you need to take a sick day.”_

_“No, I'll go with you to work,”_

_“Then you should get examined by the doctor in the infirmary.”_

_“If you really want to.”_

_She was about to answer him, when she heard Solo's voice coming from the threshold of the room. The door had been open all night..._

_“You two remember that I also live here? Could you please be a little more discreet?” He exclaimed, amused, leaning against the door jamb._

_“_ _Luckily_ _, there's no sentimental bond between you two, or I could get some weird ideas.”_

_“Illya had a high fever last night-” Gaby mumbled, embarrassed._

_“And did you have to use your whole body to check his temperature? Is it some kind of German custom I don't know?” the American laughed softly._

_She quickly got out of bed, and took her things, darted out the door exclaiming, “I'm going to my room to get dressed,” and disappeared._

_Solo couldn't resist the temptation to tease the Russian spy ,“No romantic relationship between you and Gaby, I see.”_

_Illya sat up on the bed, “серьезно, завязывай,” (seriously, knock it off.) he admonished._

_“Did you at least kiss her this time?” the American teased._

_Illya took the book he kept on the nightstand near the bed and threw it at his partner, giving him a scowl._

_Solo dodged it easily, and he disappeared down the hall, only to reappear soon after, peeping out the door._

_“Look, it's not my fault if you're such a coward, Peril,” he smiled mockingly._

_“сука” he muttered between his teeth._

**_-_ **

_The morning at the HQ went by without any particular events. Illya had his wound treated by the doctor, Gaby continued to practice shooting under the supervision of both her colleagues, who waited about ten minutes before starting to quarrel about every single little detail. At the end of the morning, she was contemplating using them both as a target, just to make them finally shut up._

_Judo training in the gym was tougher than expected for her, she learned a few new holds, but her Russian coach kept giving orders and continuously scolding her and Solo, even managing to intimidate all the other agents present. Soon, they were the only agents left in the gym._

_In the afternoon she had the first of her physical tests and the shooting range test to obtain the gun license._

_By mid-afternoon she was alone in the break room, where she was taking her first break of the day, after hours of hard Soviet training, when two colleagues she had already seen several times in the gym, entered. The last time she had noticed them, they were staring at her and her partners, whispering to each other. She already knew why._

_Before Illya returned from East Berlin, no one had ever stared at her and Solo during their training or while walking in the hallways. Solo could fascinate anyone he met, but no one allowed himself to stare at them from afar to gossip about them._

_It was clear that the tall Soviet agent was not well regarded within the agency._

_As soon as the two of them saw her, they greeted her with a nod of the head. The taller of the two, dark hair and eyes, asked her immediately._

_“You are Agent Teller, aren't you?”_

_She nodded, sipping her coffee._

_“Are you that German girl they recruited in East Berlin?”_

_This time she just raised her head and stared at the two questioningly._

_“We are Fry and Jones. From MI6. We saw you with your two partners. The American is very popular with female colleagues.”_

_She hinted at a forced smile._

_The second man, a little taller than her, blond with dark eyes, continued, “I also saw you at the shooting range, you and that giant.”_

_“Oh yeah, we were wondering how they could have put a pretty girl like you with such a brute,” the other continued._

_She sipped her coffee with an impassive expression._

_“I don't know how you can work with him. He's a machine, not a human being.”_

_She remembered the conversation she had had with Illya a few weeks earlier in Istanbul, and that comment annoyed her instantly._

_“You do well to be afraid of him. He is surely a better agent than you,” she just said as she opened the door._

_Immediately outside the door, in the corridor, she found Illya. His expression was unreadable, but she wondered if he had heard their conversation._

_“Everything okay?” she asked him._

_“Yes. Let's go back to training,” he replied flatly._

**_-_ **

_A few hours later, Gaby passed all the required tests with flying colors._

_Training with the two best spies available had paid off. She was very satisfied, especially for having also managed to defend herself from her opponent during the hand to hand combat. Speed was her best skill, and the new techniques she learned would be useful on the field. And she knew that Illya would never let her stop training in judo and at the shooting range._

_They were preparing to go home when they were called to Waverly’s office._

_Their superior was waiting for them, leaning on his desk._

_“Congratulations Miss Teller, you have passed all the exams! Your documents will be ready shortly. Starting today you can carry a gun, so we will all be less concerned about your safety.”_

_“Thank you, Sir. Is there anything else or can we go home?” she replied._

_“There is something I have to tell you. The date of departure for Paris is approaching, and I have decided to let you know about my decisions regarding the mission,” he answered, walking around the desk. “Miss Teller, you will be staying alone in a Hotel in Montmartre. You will go alone to meet our marks. We don't want any problems, so this time Kuryakin will not come with her. No fiancee is required for this mission.”_

_Illya immediately stiffened, “But, Sir, it would be too dangerous. We can't leave her alone.”_

_“This time your cover as Agent Teller's boyfriend is useless, if not deleterious, Kuryakin. You will be staying with Solo in the safe house, not too far away.”_

_“She will be alone even at the hotel? Excuse me Sir, but I disagree-” he exclaimed, clenching his fists._

_“I thought that one of your skills was also to abide by the orders of your direct superiors,” Waverly retorted with an icy tone. “Our marks know you, you would just be a problem. They must not see you,_ **_ever_ ** _. Plus you’re also wounded. You'll stay in the safe house to support agent Solo.”_

_“But-” the Russian tried to retort again._

_“And I don't want to hear any objections,” their boss said peremptorily._

_Illya tried to contain his anger, and to remain impassive, but his vision was blurring and his left hand had begun to tremble._

_Gaby immediately noticed his agitation and grabbed his left wrist in an attempt to calm him down._

_Solo then took the initiative, “What are my orders, Sir?”_

_“You will keep an eye on Agent Teller and our mark, obviously at a distance”_

_“No field support agents planned, Sir?” The American asked again. “I'll need assistance in case something goes wrong.”_

_“If anything goes wrong, I'll have a team ready to join you for support.”_

_Gaby was silent, conflicting thoughts in her head._

_On the one hand, she was proud to be able to be useful again on a mission, on the other she shared Illya's anxiety. She didn't know if Solo's protection would be enough this time._

_“I will try to do my best, Sir” she just said, still gripping the Russian's wrist. In the meantime, he was calming down._

_“Don't worry, Teller, only a few are aware of this operation. There will be no problems of any kind. I trust that you will use all your sex appeal to charm our mark. You all will leave in a few days, to have time to study the territory and plan your actions,” he ordered in a calm and peremptory tone._

_Gaby and Solo dragged Illya out of the office, still visibly shaken. They avoided talking until they got home._

_As soon as they entered the living room, the Russian confronted his two colleagues, still visibly agitated._

_He paced the room, to calm down his anger._

_“Not a good idea. It won't work,” he muttered._

_Gaby was still standing in the doorway of the living room, not knowing what to say._

_She understood the reason for Waverly's decisions, but partly shared the doubts of her Soviet partner. Plus, seeing him so shaken for their safety upset her._

_Illya, by his choice, had taken on the role of their protector. He always tried to watch over her but also over Solo, even if he tried desperately to denial it. Now,feeling useless and, moreover, not being able to protect his two colleagues, made him unstable._

_“Since when have you become the strategy expert among us, Peril?” the American approached him with slow steps._

_“Don't tell me that you agree with this plan. Send the two of you unprotected to a meeting planned by Nazis! You don't even know who will be in that cafe. And do you really want to send Gaby there, alone and unarmed?” his voice was broken with anger, which he was still trying desperately to keep under control._

_“I'll be there to protect her. Calm down.”_

_Gaby walked over to Illya, who was still pacing the room, and she grabbed his forearm._

_“Calm down. Maybe you're right, but these are the orders. We don't have much choice,” she drew him slowly towards her, trying to calm his anxiety. “And you have to accept that you can't always protect us.”_

_“What if something goes wrong?” He looked into her eyes with a sweet but also worried look._

_“There will be Waverly’s agents as backup. And then,” she said, in a softer voice. “It's just a meeting in a Paris cafe. It’s gonna be okay.”_

_“You are so strong. I remember when I told you the same words in Rome to reassure you,” he whispered, finally calmer._

_Solo cleared his throat to remind them both of his presence in the room._

_“Before you two start fluttering your eyelashes at each other again, shall we end this conversation?”Napoleon mocked them._

_The Russian gave him a grim look._

_“I still am not convinced. But let's close it here.” Then he turned to Gaby with a small smile, “ If you want, we can study some Russian together tonight.”_

_She smiled and heartened by the resolved situation, she went to her room to change._

_Solo rolled his eyes, apparently his destiny was to be the spectator to their flirting forever._

_While she was still in the hallway she heard Illya address Solo in a serious tone, that sounded almost like a threat,_

_“_ _Just remember the promise you made to me, Cowboy.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter. Please let me know, leave a comment! I'm not so confident in my writing.
> 
> Are you ready for Paris?
> 
> P.S. If any Russian speaking this , please feel free to correct my mistakes


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also this chapter is all in flashback. Paris 1963!  
> I switched a bit the POVs in this one, so we can see also Solo and Illya' emotions.  
> I'm sorry I'm so late updating this chapter, I'm a bit slow lately.  
> This chapter is mostly action and angst. I hope you'll like it.
> 
> Thanks a lot to my AMAZING beta mrsbonniemellark (please check her stories! ), this chapter was a mess, she saved me!! I will be lost without her.  
> English is not my first language (and I can't speak any Russian or German), so the mistakes are all mine.
> 
> Thanks to the amazing trenko_heart for helping me with German and correcting all my mistakes. She did a great job in this chapter!

**_V_ **

**_Paris, End of October/First days of November 1963_ **

_During the following week, they prepared for the upcoming mission. Gaby continued her training, both at the shooting range and in the gym. Illya followed her progress every day. The fact that she had to go through the mission alone worried him, making him even more demanding of her. He wanted to be sure nothing would go wrong this time._

_His wound was improving, but he hadn’t yet fully recovered._

_Almost every night, with Illya, and sometimes even with Solo, she studied Russian, but still her understanding was limited to a few commonly used phrases and very few words._

_For the mission in Paris, all three would leave separately, on different days. Gaby was the first one to fly to the French Capital. Waverly thought they would notice her arrival in France right away, just checking her presence on the plane. To leave no traces, she first took off to Amsterdam, under a false name, then from there she took another flight to Paris._

_Her hotel was located in the Montmartre district, and for a few days she would be completely alone, with only the support of some U.N.C.L.E. agents already present in the city, who monitored her from afar, to report any suspicious movements to Waverly._

_During the first days, she was happy to go around the city like a tourist and admire all the monuments. The district she was staying at was beautiful, and she was captivated by the beauty and the liveness of the city. Berlin still bore the heavy marks of war, and especially East Berlin was not comparable to a charming city like Paris._

_Solo arrived in town a few days later, but he couldn't contact her. His orders were to go to the agency's safe house until further notice from London._

_Illya was the last to arrive in France. He had to keep a low profile, avoiding being noticed, so he too went straight to the safe house, minimizing his movements around the city._

_They were both located in the 18th arrondissement, near the Gare du Nord, not too far from Gaby’s hotel. It was necessary to move carefully to avoid blowing her cover, and exposing her to unnecessary danger._

_In the following days, Solo had made several inspections in the area of the 9th arrondissement, where the cafe, the meeting place, was located._

_He had studied all the possible escape paths, the best watching point to control the place without being seen, and any hiding spots in which to hide in case of danger._

_As soon as Illya arrived in Paris, they organized themselves to sneak into the cafe at night and bug the space, to monitor all the activities that were taking place there, even in the days before the meeting._

_Solo snuck into the cafe easily, while his Russian partner was the lookout._

_They worked well together, despite both having been used to working alone for a long time, they now knew each other’s strengths and were able to collaborate without arguing too much. Or, at least, the bare minimum._

_That night, when they went back to the safe house, they began studying the area on the City’s maps._

_Napoleon had noticed for days how restless his Russian colleague was._

_As had happened before, when Illya could not keep an eye on Gaby, he became nervous and even more hard to manage._

_Tonight, after days without any news from her, he had reached a new level of grumpiness that annoyed the American._

_“Peril, relax. She's fine,” he said with his usual calmness._

_“You don't know that. They have been spying on her for days. And she's alone in that hotel room,” he muttered in a low voice._

_“There are other agents watching over her. And no one has any interest in letting something bad happen to Gaby. Waverly told me today that he has sent other agents from London to support us on this mission.”_

_The Russian snorted._

_“I can't stand the idea of staying here, useless, and listening to conversations while you two are out in the field,” he had already said this to Solo several times over the past few days._

_“I understand, but unfortunately if they see you they would immediately know that something is wrong. She has to win their trust or we will never understand what they have been up to for months.”_

_“Do you think they managed to complete the bomb formula again, Cowboy?”_

_“Maybe in recent weeks they have managed to recruit a few more scientists for their purposes.”_

_“Why are they still so interested in Gaby then?"_

_“I think it's more her uncle's and father's reputation that makes her useful for their purposes,” Solo explained._

_“I just hope it's not a trap, Cowboy,” he said laconically._

_“You killed Alexander with your own hands, Victoria is dead. No one can know that Gaby is a British spy.”_

_Illya just sighed and closed his eyes. He had been trying to get rid of the anxiety he felt for months. But he couldn’t. Something had been worrying him since Istanbul and he feared that sooner or later something would go wrong. But he didn't want to look paranoid once again, so he stayed silent. He just hoped that his American partner was right._

_Although he would never admit it out loud, the Soviet spy admired Solo for his skills, his ability to analyze the situation, develop a strategy, even under stress, and manipulate people to his advantage. He also admired the brazen nonchalance with which his western partner dealt with situations. His presence next to Gaby reassured him, but not to the point of eliminating his anxiety completely._

_Despite his discomfort about the whole plan, he continued to work as ordered, preparing to spend the next few days listening to the activities that would take place in that cafe._

_-_

_After the excitement of the first few days in Paris, Gaby began to feel the burden of having to manage the most important part of the mission alone. The fact that she could not contact any of her partners in any way started to make her nervous._

_The last time she had been on a mission alone, things hadn't gone well, her father had died and she had nearly met the same fate. Despite this, she knew that was her life now. She would have to risk her life many more times in future. She too probably would end up covered in scars like Illya. She had to accept the risk of her new life beyond the Iron Curtain. The price of her freedom. If this could be really considered freedom._

_The day of the meeting was approaching and she mentally prepared herself to act more friendly with Mr. Bohne, in order to gain his trust. She knew that the man was attracted to her, she had felt it from day one. This time, she would have to pretend she ended her engagement, and she hid Illya’s ring so it wasn't visible._

_That evening, lying on the sofa in her hotel room in her pajamas, she couldn't stop thinking about the events of the previous weeks. She played with the little chain from which hung the ring he had given her in Rome. The rain began to patter on the window panes._

_She wanted to focus more on the mission, but her thoughts kept returning to Illya. She couldn't get him out of her head. That made her realize the depth of her feelings for him. She kept thinking about her conversation with Solo too._

_Maybe it was time to stop stifling her feelings about him?_

_Engaging in a romantic relationship with a colleague was risky, especially if he was a Russian spy, likely to return to Moscow soon. She tried to remember the last time she had felt something like that for a man._

_She had boyfriends before, she had liked them all, but nothing even remotely comparable to what she was feeling about Illya now._

_She was frightened by the extent of her feelings for him. They would only lead to problems for both of them. They would only hurt her, and endanger him. What basis could such a relationship have? What future?_

_Yet she couldn't stop thinking about his hands gently touching her, the warmth of his embrace, the softness of his skin, the intensity of his eyes when he looked at her, a soft tender look that he reserved for her only._

_And she couldn't stop wanting more. Wanting to finally kiss his lips, to touch him even more. Absorbed in these sensations, she sighed deeply._

_Solo was right, she should at least admit her feelings to herself._

_The ringing of the phone roused her from her thoughts, and immediately put her on alert. None of the U.N.C.L.E. would call her directly on the phone here. Waverly's orders were clear, no direct contact. And that phone could be bugged._

_It had to be Bohne. Since she had arrived in Paris, she hadn’t received any information regarding the place or method of meeting._

_She picked up the phone “Allô?”_

_The concierge told her there was a phone call waiting for her. Gaby got the call through immediately._

_“Allô?” she repeated “qui est à l'appareil?” (Hello? Who is speaking?)_

_The voice on the other end of the phone gave her only a few simple instructions in German. A message awaited her in a post office box near the hotel. Gaby didn't even have time to reply as the conversation ended abruptly._

_Gaby sighed again and curled up in a blanket waiting for the sunrise, listening to the sound of the rain._

_The next morning she went first to the post office to retrieve the message. In the P.O. Box indicated number 186, she found a single envelope with a message. A date and time of the appointment. The next day, Friday 1st November at 4.30pm._

_Gaby didn't particularly like the time. It was too close to sunset, and in case of trouble, she would have to fight the darkness too. Plus it was cold, and it was still damp from the rains of the previous days._

_But she didn't have much of a choice._

_She went to the cafe on Place du Tertre where she was supposed to make contact with one of the U.N.C.L.E. in case of necessity._

_The square was crowded as always with people and artists intent on painting. In that turmoil, it would have been more difficult to follow her._

_She entered the cafe, which was already quite crowded even though it was still early in the morning. She sat down at a table at the back of the room, with her back towards the wall and her eyes on the entrance. She wanted to keep an eye on who entered. She took out of her purse the book that would be recognized by her contact, a German copy of Goethe's Faust. Quickly and cautiously, she slipped into the book the note she had just found inside the P.O. box, and she waited for someone to approach her._

_After a while a waiter approached her to take her order: a coffee and a croissant. He took a quick look at the book on the table and walked back to the counter._

_Gaby continued to scan the place, to see if anyone might have followed her._

_When the waiter returned to bring her order, he gave the book a light tap that made it fall to the floor._

_While apologizing to her, he bent down to take the book, giving a quick glance at the note inside. “Encore une fois, je suis désolé, mademoiselle,” (Once again, I'm sorry, Miss) he said before walking away._

_Gaby hurriedly tucked the book back into her bag and then pretending to be calm, she began eating the croissant._

_She hoped that everything would go as planned. The fact that she couldn't have any confirmation that her partners knew the date and time of the meeting was a risk she had to take._

_-_

_Illya spent the whole morning in the safe house, listening to the recordings of the bugs placed by Solo in the cafe, where Gaby will meet with Bohne._

_His mood showed no sign of improvement. He couldn't bear the fact that he had been sidelined and relegated to a role of mere observer of all the action._

_He had just started cleaning his pistol and his sniper rifle when Solo returned from his inspection. The Russian didn't even look up at his partner._

_“At least today it’s not raining. I went to our contact in Place du Tertre, Gaby received the exact date and time of the appointment.”_

_At that point, Illya raised his head to look at him._

_“It's tomorrow, at 04:30 PM, I need to settle some things beforehand.”_

_“Mmmhh” was the only answer he got._

_“Is that all you have to say? Conversation has never been your forte, but this is almost ridiculous,” the American continued. “You're not planning anything on your own, are you?”_

_The other just looked at him, without answering._

_Solo knew perfectly well that his Soviet partner was not the type to sit quietly at home and wait. He had noticed the weapons he was cleaning, but he didn't even want to discuss the subject any more. It wasn't his job to give him orders, and he didn't want to stop him from handling things “in his Russian way”. He could perfectly understand his partner, as he used to do missions alone. So he pretended not to understand what was going through that stupid stubborn communist head._

_“I will go there about an hour earlier, to check the area. At first, I will be in the boulangerie on the other side of the road.”_

_Solo sat down on the sofa, continuing to observe his colleague's movements. “Didn't you get anything out of the bugs?”_

_Illya just shook his head._

_“Also the other U.N.C.L.E. agents haven’t noticed anything suspicious. Let's wait to see if something happens today. I think someone from their organization is working in the place.” His partner continued to remain silent._

_“Perfect,” he finally replied, monotonously._

_Realizing that any attempt to talk with his partner would be futile, Solo let out a long deep sigh._

_-_

_None of them slept peacefully that night._

_Gaby was obviously agitated, she kept imagining in her head every possible scenario, what to say and how to react._

_Not even drinking helped her calm down, nor listening to music. She wanted to hear Illya's voice, talk to him. But she didn't know the safe house phone number either. It was a safety precaution in case something went wrong._

_But she did nothing but think about him. And this annoyed her._

_She had always been her own woman, used to living on her own, not depending on anyone. She never wanted to be bound romantically to a man, in that delicate moment of her life, let alone with a Soviet agent. She had always hated everything Russian. Yet now she couldn't stop thinking about him, who represented everything she had tried to avoid throughout all her existence._

_It was also ridiculous to have her head full of thoughts of Illya, especially on the eve of an important mission. But even her fear of the meeting with the Nazis made her more aware of her feelings for him. The precariousness of their life, being constantly exposed to life danger, only increased her desire to spend the few moments of peace and tranquility with him. To cherish every second she could spend in his arms. She no longer wanted to waste the opportunities they had to be together._

_Trying to calm herself down, she started preparing things for the next day, then, finally exhausted, she threw herself on the bed, snuggling into the blankets._

_-_

_Even Solo was nervous that evening. Perhaps he had been influenced by the concern of his Russian partner, but he wasn't calm either. So many things on this mission were beyond his control. And he actually trusted in the Russian’s instinct. If Red Peril said there was another agency involved, he was probably right. But were they allies? Another foreign intelligence keeping an eye on the Nazis?Then he wondered why Waverly had never talked about such an eventuality. He tried to rest as much as possible, to be lucid the next day._

_-_

_Illya slept only a couple of hours. He was used to staying awake, even for days, it was part of his training. He tried to be calm even with himself, to control his emotions._

_He checked that everything was in order, listening to the conversations taped in the cafe, to be sure he hadn’t missed anything._

_And he tried not to think about the little German girl, but this was practically impossible. He had long ago realized that what Solo once told him was true. When Gaby was involved and her life was at risk, he would lose his lucidity._

_Or rather, all his attention was focused on her, and all the rest became secondary._

_For a trained agent like him, this entailed a great risk. For a Soviet, it was even worse._

_Individualism and personal matters were forbidden for a Soviet spy. Every action had to be done for the sake of Russia, and not for petty personal interests or sentimentalism._

_But he hadn't had anyone so important in his life for years._

_His parents had been taken from him, and then they were dead._

_For years he had lived solely for his work. No space for personal life, no bonds, no affection. He had also lost those few friends he had when he was younger._

_And now that he had someone again in his life that made him feel human and alive, he couldn't give her up._

_Probably he would never have been able to express or fully live those feelings. It was unthinkable for a spy. Now he remembered what he had said to her a few evenings earlier, in the delirium of the high fever, he had told her partly what he felt, and he knew he had said too much. He hoped she didn't understand much about his confession. But he wanted to cherish those feelings. He didn't want to lose that part of himself that he had found after a long time, nor the person who raised those feelings in him._

_-_

_The next day, in the early afternoon, Solo was getting ready to go out. That morning he had only exchanged a few words with his partner. The Russian was annoyingly more taciturn than usual, merely answering his questions with nods and monosyllables._

_Napoleon managed to keep himself calm and cold-blooded even in riskier missions, but the tension that filled the room for days unnerved him. He knew that if something happened to Gaby, Illya would never forgive him. He was preparing the bug that he would carry hidden under his shirt, when he heard the voice of his partner addressing him after days of silence._

_“Cowboy, something is happening.”_

_Napoleon finished tucking his shirt into his pants and walked next to the table where the Russian was working._

_“They’re talking about a meeting scheduled for today. Other enemy agents will be in the cafe to check on Gaby,”said the Russian._

_“The fact that we know so little about the Vinciguerra Organization could be a problem.”_

_“They don't seem to trust her totally, but they haven't said anything particularly useful yet. But keep in mind that it’s not just Bohne you have to keep an eye on.”_

_“You keep listening and recording as long as you can, Peril. Then go to take your position. Let’s hope that this time Gabs will finally meet a leader of this organization.”_

_The plan was simple. Solo would have checked the situation on the street, from the room opposite and Illya would have been not too far away, listening to them inside a van, also useful if they had to follow Gaby and the mark to another location._

_Everything was under control. Or at least he hoped so._

_He finished getting ready, put his pistol into the shoulder holster and slipped a second pistol into the ankle holster, just in case. As he put on his jacket and raincoat he wondered if he should talk to his Soviet partner again, but decided to leave without further investigations about his intentions._

_-_

_That afternoon Gaby arrived slightly late for her appointment. She wanted to seem confident and bold. When she arrived in the cafe, in a white coat, she was wearing her big sunglasses, even on that cold, gray Parisian day._

_Bohne was already there waiting for her, sitting at a table al fresco. Gaby walked towards him, slowly, without taking off her glasses, but she didn't sit down._

_“Bitte nehmen Sie Platz, Miss,” (Please take a seat, Miss.)_

_She calmly took her place at the table. She glanced at the other customers in the place. Certainly some, if not all of them, were Bohne's henchmen._

_“_ _Wir sind diesmal wieder alleine, wie ich sehe. Ich fange an zu glauben, dass Sie sich nur über mich lustig machen_ _._ _” (We are alone this time too, I see. I am beginning to think that you are making fun of me.) She said coldly._

_“Es ist nur der letzte Test. Wenn alles reibungslos läuft, bringe ich dich dorthin, wo meine Freunde sind” (This is just the latest test. If everything goes smoothly, I'll take you to where my friends are) he replied, impassive._

_At that moment, she approached the waiter to take their order._

_“Un café s'il vous plaît. Merci,” (One coffee, please)she asked, hinting at a courtesy smile._

_She was silent for a few minutes trying to evaluate the situation. She had no choice, this time, she had to follow Bohne wherever he wanted to take her._

_It was a huge risk, but she hoped that Solo would not lose sight of her._

_Besides, if she didn't get searched, she still had hung Illya's ring around her neck._

_“_ _Wo ist ihr nerviger Verlobter? Sind Sie ihn losgeworden?_ _” (Where is your annoying fiance? Did you get rid of him?) He scoffed at her, in his usual contemptuous tone. The man perhaps thought he had a charming manner, but she just found it extremely annoying._

 _“_ _Überlassen Sie mir das. Er ist jedenfalls nicht hier_ _._ _” (Leave these matters to me. He's not here, anyway.)_

_Gaby was finishing her coffee when she noticed a strange movement inside the cafe. A forty-something man in a dark gray suit walked in, trying to hide his agitation. He walked slowly but nervously. He walked over to the men behind the counter and told them something._

_Immediately, the waiter who had served them earlier walked to their table and whispered something in Bohne's ear._

_The man changed his expression immediately and turned to her._

_“_ _Sind Sie mit jemand anderem hierher gekommen? Was verstecken Sie vor mir?_ _”(Did you come here with someone else? What did you hide from me?)_

_She widened her eyes, “Was? Nein, ich bin hier allein.”(What? No. I'm here alone.)_

_She feared that some agents of the U.N.C.L.E. or even Solo had been discovered._

_“_ _Also folgte Ihnen jemand hierher. Lassen Sie es uns hier beenden_ _._ _”(Then someone followed you here. Let's finish it here.)_

_“Aber ich bin nur nach Paris gekommen, um sie und ihre Freunde zu treffen!”(But I only came here to Paris to meet you and your friends!)_

_“_ _Gerade ist es unmöglich. Auf Wiedersehen, Miss Teller_ _.(_ _It’s impossible now. Goodbye, Miss Teller,)” Bohne said, jumping up from her chair._

_Gaby was furious, after months of preparing for that meeting, everything was gone in minutes. She didn't know how she was going to regain the mark's trust, so she tried it all._

_She took a note from her pocket and slid it across the table towards the man._

_“_ _Sie können mich bei dieser Adresse in Wien kontaktieren. Meine Freunde werden mir ihre Nachricht weiterleiten._ _” (_ _You can contact me at this address in Vienna. Some friends will send me your messages)”_

_He took the card, on which the address of a P.O.Box was written._

_“Sie_ _sagten_ _mir, sie haben keine Freunde.”(You told me you didn't have any friends.)_

 _“_ _Ich will nicht direkt alle meine Karten offenlegen.”(_ _I don't like to reveal my cards right away.)_

_Bohne slipped the note into his pocket and walked away._

_Gaby waited a few minutes trying to look detached and calm. She actually was afraid to leave the cafe, she didn't know what was waiting for her in the street._

_If someone was really following her, who could he be? But she couldn't wait too long because the sun was already starting to set, it would soon be evening._

_She hoped that Solo had everything under control and that he was on his way to recover her. As she gripped the ring she wore around her neck, she thought that Illya must have heard her conversation with Bohne. And neither of them would leave her alone and unarmed in that situation._

_She got up from her chair and took a quick look around, but no one seemed to be paying attention to her. She then walked away, slowly, trying not to show her agitation._

_She walked a few hundred meters, at a steady pace, trying to figure out if anyone was following her. The main street was still crowded and it was impossible for her to even see if Solo was anywhere near._

_To figure out if anyone was trailing her, she took a less crowded side street._

_She hoped not to make a risky move and mess up her situation._

_She hoped that someone from U.N.C.L.E. would come and rescue her._

_The daylight began to disappear to make way for darkness._

_She took off her sunglasses and slipped them into her purse, trying to look over her shoulder._

_Hearing footsteps following her in the distance in the almost empty street, she quickened her pace slightly. She stopped abruptly for a moment, not having the guts to turn around, and then she began to run as fast as she could, as much as her legs and her boots would allow. Thankfully, she put on lower heels that day._

_Now she distinctly heard someone running after her._

_She quickly turned left and saw that someone was coming out of a large wooden door._

_She immediately ducked into the building's entrance, closing the door behind her._

_Maybe she escaped her pursuers, but staying still was suicide. She was out of breath, trying to think straight._

_In the inner courtyard, she saw the back exit of the building._

_What was the best thing to do? Go upstairs? Seek refuge in an apartment with strangers? Go out on the street again? Wait there?_

_She hid in a dark corner of the courtyard, trying to calm herself down._

_She needed to learn how to handle such situations, doing this kind of job, she had no choice._

_She took a deep breath and walked towards the rear exit of the building._

_She slowly opened the metal door, and went out into an alley. The alley was closed by a high wall, some rubbish bins were leaning against it._

_She turned to look towards the alley entrance and heard voices approaching._

_It was night now, but the full moon was illuminating the road. She tried to reenter the building but the door couldn't open from the outside without a key. She tried to get in one of the dumpsters to climb over the wall, but the surface was still slippery from the rain of the previous days, and she lost her grip, falling badly to the ground. With a wounded and bleeding knee, her white coat now all dirty and wet, she then tried to hide herself behind one of the bins._

_She felt trapped._

_“Then this is where I will die, alone in a lousy alley. Without even knowing why,” she thought, and she was furious with herself for making the wrong decision._

_The voices approached and she didn't know what to do._

_In the pale moonlight, she clearly saw four armed men, advancing towards her._

_At that point, she had no escape. Yet no one had opened fire, so they clearly didn't want to kill her immediately._

_She understood that their goal was to capture her alive. The four men were about thirty meters from her when the iron door, through which she had exited earlier, suddenly opened. Gaby immediately recognized the figure standing at the door._

_Solo in an elegant gray raincoat, his gun in hand, went out quickly and stood between her and the four assailants._

_She leaned slightly toward him, in time to grab the gun he had thrown at her._

_Without waiting for anything else, he immediately opened fire, fatally hitting one of her pursuers and moved quickly to seek cover beside her, behind one of the dumpsters. The other three men reacted by returning the fire._

_She shot too, but although her aim was largely improved, she didn't hit anyone. Unfortunately, while she was trying to hit one of the men, she came out into the open. Napoleon grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards him to protect her. But while he shielded her from the gunshot, he was shot in the right side of his chest._

_He only let out a dull pain moan, but Gaby screamed as soon as she saw the blood staining her friend's raincoat._

_In anger, she emptied the entire magazine of her gun, killing one of the three men. Napoleon, despite the serious wound, managed to shoot with his left hand and hit one of the two men left in the arm._

_Unfortunately, the situation didn't turn to their advantage._

_Gaby was out of ammos, and Solo was starting to be affected by his injury._

_The two men, who had temporarily hidden in a recess in the wall, came out, walking into the alley, approaching dangerously._

_Solo still had a bullet left and no time to reload._

_The men were getting closer and closer._

_“It’s over,” she thought. “They will kill him and kidnap me.”_

_She approached her wounded partner, hugging him, and took the gun from his hands. If they were to die, she wouldn't go down without fighting._

_Suddenly in the cold night, a couple of sharp thuds rang out._

_The two men fell to the ground lifeless._

_She widened her eyes, trying to understand what was happening._

_Somehow they were safe. She turned to her partner, his face was pale and he was already covered in blood. She took off her white scarf and dabbed his wound, running her other hand over his back._

_“Solo, I can't find the exit hole. The bullet must still be inside!” She almost panicked to see him like that, all soaked with blood. She could never have taken him out of that alley alone. He was way too heavy for her alone._

_Napoleon, more and more white in her face, reassured her._

_“Don’t worry, Gabs. It could be worse, the bullet could stop the internal bleeding. We have to try to get out of here as long as I can use my legs.”_

_But it was already too late. He no longer had the strength to pull himself up, he had already lost too much blood._

_She couldn't let him die in that alley, because of her._

_She was almost desperate, her eyes filled with tears, when she heard in the distance the sound of a car approaching. She saw only the headlights approach and stop about fifty meters from them. It was a red and white van. When the door opened, she immediately recognized the tall silhouette that stood out from the headlights._

_"Illya!" she screamed with all the voice she had left._

_She was so relieved and happy to see him come towards them that tears began to flow down her face. Illya's presence alone made her feel safe. He would know what to do now._

_He quickly approached them, the American was now unconscious._

_“Illya, they shot him, he lost a lot of blood!” she murmured, still in tears._

_The Russian took Solo in his arms and carried him onto his shoulders._

_“Are you okay?” he asked softly._

_She nodded, “I only have a few scratches.”_

_“We need to get him to HQ medical center right away,” he continued._

_Gaby could hardly speak. She was still in shock, not only for Napoleon, but also because she realized she had just killed a man._

_Illya slipped Solo into the back of the van and said, “Come on, stay in the back with him, I'll drive.”_

_She obeyed and stood next to the American, holding him into her arms. She was shaking._

_“Press this on the wound, and check his pulse, and the breathing,” he instructed her again. “Don't worry, милая, Cowboy would never give me the satisfaction of dying before me. He will be okay.”_

_He was clearly trying to calm her down. She nodded again, but she was still shaking._

_They left immediately for the U.N.C.L.E.’s HQ._

_Gaby couldn't stop crying as she tried to keep Napoleon alive as long as she could._

_Illya drove recklessly, trying to get to the hospital as soon as possible. She knew that every moment was precious._

_He didn't want to be worried in front of her, but he understood that their partner's life was hanging by a thread._

_“It's all my fault. Solo will die and it will be all my fault,” she murmured between sobs._

_“Das stimmt nicht. Du weißt es.” (It's not true. You know it) he replied. “The mission was badly planned from the start.”_

_His tone was full of anger, but not at her. From the start he had had a bad omen about this mission, he knew there were more risks than anticipated._

_He accelerated as much as possible, time was of the essence in trying to save Napoleon._

_“Illya, the bullet didn't come out.” Her white coat was completely soaked with blood. “Please, Solo, stay with me,” her voice still trembled._

_“Come on, Cowboy, hold on. We're almost there,” he exclaimed. “Don't worry, милая” he kept reassuring her, but Gaby knew he was worried too._

_The U.N.C.L.E headquarters in Paris was on the edge of the 18th arrondissement, not too far from the railway._

_The van entered the building's underground parking lot at full speed._

_Illya quickly got out of the vehicle and opened the rear door. He picked up Napoleon with relative ease. Gaby knew that he was capable of lifting heavy weights easily._

_She remembered well when he threw part of a heavy motorcycle at Alexander Vinciguerra._

_“Gaby, please take the bags,” he told her. “There's my electronic equipment inside.”_

_She took the three heavy bags that were in the back of the van._

_She still found it hard to speak. She was in shock and she was starting to feel her physical and psychological fatigue._

_The Russian quickly headed for the building entrance._

_She ran to enter her secret access code, hoping they would open the doors as quickly as possible._

_They finally managed to get into the elevator, to the floor where the medical center was located._

_As soon as they got out of the elevator, Gaby called for attention, shouting, “Agent wounded, we need immediate assistance!”_

_For a few moments, she regained her lucidity and when the doctors and nurses arrived she explained everything that had happened, how much time had passed and that it was necessary to hurry because the wounded man had lost a lot of blood._

_Illya put Solo gently on a stretcher, the doctors quickly started the first assistance, running to the operating room. And then she collapsed to the ground._

_Without the adrenaline to keep her on her feet, her strength was completely gone. She was shattered._

_He knelt beside her immediately, holding her close._

_“Everything is gonna be okay,” he whispered softly to her._

_But she knew neither of them could do anything now._

_She put a hand on his chest and noticed that his dark turtleneck was soaked in blood. The shock for Solo and her first kill hadn't made her realize that Illya was also wounded. He was hurt but he didn't say anything, not even a damn word or a groan._

_“Is this blood yours?” she asked him, terrified. “What happened? What's wrong?”_

_“Tsk. It's nothing. A few scratches. Now let's get up and find a quiet place to sit and wait till the operation ends.” More reassurance._

_But Gaby was too worn out by the day, and she didn't want to hear more excuses._

_She couldn't lose them both in one day. It was too much even for her to bear._

_“No, now I'll call a doctor, and you will be examined. I want to know how badly your wounds are,” she said, raising her voice._

_He helped her to her feet, and nodded. He didn't want to upset her, or give her other reasons for anxiety._

_“Why didn't you say anything? You're hurt and you didn't tell me anything!” she continued, more and more agitated._

_“Calm down, I'm fine. It's nothing. I swear. Come, sit here,” he murmured, approaching an armchair in the corner, by a window._

_He took his bags and placed them next to the armchair, where she sat, with her arms wrapped around her chest, trembling and still covered in Napoleon's blood._

_“I'm going to get a doctor for both of us,” he said again, and walked away slowly._

_Gaby couldn't stop shaking. And she was mad at herself for being so weak. But she couldn't stop thinking about Solo, the man she had killed, and Illya. She continued to stare at her own hands, still covered in blood, now dried._

_After about 15 minutes, Illya returned to her, with a nurse._

_“Here, they stitched me up. I told you it was just a scratch.” He pulled up his dark shirt, revealing a couple of freshly stitched wounds on the right side of his chest, and those from the previous month, which were still healing. The nurse gave him a puzzled look and Gaby realized his injuries were anything but scratches._

_She was furious at him for hiding them from her, but she got up and followed the nurse._

_Shortly thereafter, she returned, with her knees and leg bandaged. At least now her hands and her face were clean._

_Illya had taken off his jacket and was sitting in the armchair. He had pulled out of one of his three bags, another dark blue turtleneck. He took off the dirty one he was wearing, remaining shirtless for a few minutes. She couldn't take her eyes off his body, so beautiful yet so full of wounds and scars. Then he put on the clean sweater and stuffed the dirty one in the bag. He looked exhausted now. She felt that way too._

_As soon as he saw her, he gave her a small smile._

_“Come here,” he told her softly._

_She took off her coat, now completely ruined by the dirt and the blood, and walked toward him. It was hard for her to walk, her tiredness getting the better of her._

_He gently took her hands in his and drew her slowly towards him._

_“Do you want to rest for a little while? I leave you the chair.” His smile grew even sweeter. She finally felt calmer. She shook her head, and stood still for a moment, as if to pluck courage. She then approached him again and sat on his lap. For a moment, she felt his body stiffen, surprised by her gesture, but after a while he relaxed again. She then lay down on him, resting her head on his chest._

_“Can I stay like this for a while?” she whispered to him._

_He nodded “Можешь вообще остаться у меня навечно.” (You can stay with me forever) he replied, hugging her._

_She snorted softly. “In English, please.”_

_“You can stay with me forever, if you want,” this time he told her the truth, that day had been too hard for everyone, he didn't want to hide his feelings anymore._

_His words took her breath away, and left her speechless. She just rubbed her face against his neck._

_“What happened today? I know you saved us ... but didn't you receive different orders?” she asked softly._

_“I was listening to your conversation inside the van on the side of the street. But when I heard someone was following you I went out onto the street to join you,” he answered._

_“And then?”_

_“The U.N.C.L.E. support agents were nowhere to be found. I went up on a roof to get more visibility of the area. Then I saw you running, chased by those men. Shortly after I saw Solo trying to reach you. I started running on the rooftops, until I saw you in that alley. I'm sorry I was late, but three men were on that roof and they attacked me. I didn't even have time to think,”_

_Gaby raised her head to look him in the eye. “Three men? And how did you get rid of them all by yourself?”As soon as her sentence came out of her mouth, she realized she was talking to a man who can disarm someone in less than a second._

_“I was able to disarm them easily, but one hit me with a knife. At that point I was furious, I had an episode, I don't remember exactly what I did.”_

_“You don't remember?” Her eyes widened. She knew his episodes very well and she knew how dangerous his fury could be, but she didn't imagine that this time the anger was so blind to blur his memory._

_“I'm sorry, I only regained control of myself when I heard the shots. Solo was already wounded.”_

_“And the three men?”_

_Illya was quiet for a few moments, then he said in a low voice, “All dead.”_

_“Dead how? Did you kill them with your bare hands?” she exclaimed. But when she saw his reaction to her words, she immediately regretted speaking._

_“Bare hands, knife. I don't remember,” he muttered, shaking his head uncomfortably. Showing her how monstrous he could be was becoming more and more painful for him._

_Then she stroked his chest with one hand, to reassure him._

_“Calm down. You saved our lives tonight,” she whispered. “But how did you hit those two in the alley?”_

_“I brought my sniper rifle with me. It's there in the bag.” he said, nodding toward it. “I didn't trust leaving you two alone, unprotected.”_

_“Waverly won't be happy with how the mission went. What happened to our other agents?”_

_“I think they were all killed. This mission was doomed from the start. But it wasn't my priority anyway.”_

_She widened her eyes again, smiling._

_“And what would be your priority then, Mr. Very special agent?”_

_“You,” his response was so direct and sincere that her heart skipped a beat. Gaby felt her face flush violently, and she couldn't look him in his eyes._

_She wanted to say something, but, as usual, she couldn't come up with a sensible sentence. Then she rested her face on his chest again, and she just squeezed him tight._

_“You,” and then he added, muttering in a low voice, “and Solo.”_

_They remained silent for a while, hugging tightly in the armchair. The moon shone brightly in the dark sky._

_“Illya …” she said, in a small voice, after a little while._

_“Mmhh?”_

_“Do you think Solo will make it? I couldn't bear it if he died.” Her eyes were filled with tears again. “I don't want him to die because of me.”_

_He held her even tighter, and kissed her forehead, resting his lips against her skin._

_“Shh ... Es war nicht deine Schuld. Du hast alles richtig gemacht,” (It wasn't your fault. You did everything right,) While he comforted her, holding her close to him, he began to rock her in his arms slowly. “Cowboy has tough skin, he'll be good as new shortly.”_

_“Are you sure?” her voice was shaking again._

_“Trust me,” he promised her. In his heart, Illya knew he had made a promise to her that he wasn't sure he could keep, but he didn't even want to think about the possibility that Solo might die. He just couldn't die, not like that._

_“Now why don't you try to get some rest? Sleep, милая моя,(my sweet)” he continued softly._

_“I don't think I should sleep like this. It's a miracle that no one has seen us yet.”_

_If anyone had seen them like that, they surely wouldn't have looked professional. Gaby then tried to get up but he pressed her against him again._

_“I don't care. You aren’t going anywhere. Let them see us.” With one hand he took his jacket and used it to cover her, keeping her warm.“Here, now, rest.”_

_She curled up against him, under his jacket, finally feeling safe after that hellish day. She had a headache, she was exhausted, but the heat of his body made her feel alive again. She hugged him, trying to pay attention to his injuries._

_Although almost two hours had passed, she was still trembling slightly from the strong emotions felt during that evening._

_“Illya?” she murmured._

_“Mmmh?”_

_“I ... today ... I killed a man.” Her voice was shaking again. “I know it was to defend myself, but I can't stop thinking about the shooting. About that man on the ground, all the blood and Solo…”_

_“Ssssh... You did what you had to do to save yourself and Cowboy. I know it's painful. It's like a part of you dies, every time you kill someone. But you'll get used to it.”_

_She heard the regret in his voice as he spoke those words._

_Though he seemed impassive when he had also killed in cold blood, she wondered how much of him had died doing that job for years._

_He continued to rock her softly, holding her close to him._

_“Just relax, everything will be fine,” he repeated, giving her another kiss on her forehead, then one on her cheek. “I'm here. Nobody's going to hurt you now. You're safe, милая.”_

_“Now I know what that word means, you know?” she whispered softly, keeping her eyes closed._

_“So?” he asked. “Do you like it?”_

_She just smiled and buried her face in the crook of his neck, deeply inhaling his scent._

_After a few minutes of silence, he began to gently stroke her hair._

_“I don't want to fall asleep. I want to wait for the surgery to finish. I wanna know if Solo is out of danger,” she said, looking at him._

_He looked intently into her eyes, and his lips twitched, forming a small smile._

_“Cowboy will be fine, and I'll stay awake waiting for him to come out of the surgery room. I'll wake you up as soon as he gets out,” he reassured her, moving a lock of hair from her forehead._

_She smiled, and her hand stroked his face, “How do you feel? You managed to get stabbed two times in 20 days.”_

_“I've seen worse days,” he smiled,“and I'm getting the reward for my hard work right now.”_

_Despite his concern for Solo's condition, he would have gladly endured countless injuries, if at the end of the day Gaby had always been in his arms, safe and sound._

_“Du bist so dumm, Illya Kuryakin.” (You're so stupid, Illya Kuryakin.)_

_She laughed softly, stroking his face and then running her hand through his blond hair._

_He pushed her hair away from her forehead again and gave her another little kiss there. Then a peck on the tip of her nose. He was dying to kiss her but he remembered where they were, and he didn't want to kiss her for the first time in such a place, with so little intimacy. So he only hugged her tightly, letting out a deep sigh._

_He cradled her again for a while to make her fall asleep, and after about ten minutes, he relaxed a little, stretching his legs and resting his head on the headboard of the armchair._

_He was exhausted but he would never be able to sleep in that situation, without knowing if Solo was out of danger. If he had managed to save them both._

_Though he deliberately violated higher orders to rush to their rescue, Illya felt guilty. He had lost control and hadn't arrived in time to prevent Solo from being shot._

_He held himself responsible, and just hoped the surgery went well._

_He could hide it as much as he wanted, but he cared about that American agent. He trusted him. And he didn't want to lose him._

_Illya looked at Gaby as she slept curled up in his arms, and thought about what might have happened if he'd only been a few minutes late. What was the real goal of those men? Kill her? They seemed more interested in kidnapping her. But for what purpose?_

_He was sure it was another foreign organization involved, and something was familiar to him, but too many details had escaped him during his strong and uncontrolled outburst of anger. He tried to remember the faces, the weapons, the clothes. But he hardly remembered killing two of the three men with his bare hands. He only had some brief, confusing flashbacks. He hated that part of himself, he hated losing control._

_But in any case, he was sure, whoever those men were, he wouldn't let anyone hurt or take Gaby away, even at the cost of his life. For the first time, he no longer knew what his priorities were. He had sacrificed everything for his beloved homeland, but now he looked at everything with different eyes._

_He had something important in his life to protect, to fight for._

_It was a little after two in the morning, the doctors were not yet able to provide any information on Napoleon's condition. Illya had been asleep for about fifteen minutes when he was awakened by a noise coming from the hallway near the elevator. Thinking there was news of the outcome of the surgery, he suddenly opened his eyes, glancing at Gaby who was still sleeping soundly in his arms._

_Trying not to wake her, he shifted his weight to the armchair. He was surprised when he saw Waverly at the door._

_Illya straightened himself a little, but he didn't want to wake up his little partner._

_He didn't care what their boss might think at this point._

_“Kuryakin,” the Englishman glanced at the sleeping girl that the Russian still held tight to him. “How is Solo? As soon as I received the news, I left London by helicopter.”_

_“Agent Solo is still undergoing_ _surgery_ _, Sir. He's been badly wounded in the chest. He's lost a lot of blood.”_

_“As soon as the surgery is over you will explain to me what exactly happened. What about Teller?”_

_“She is safe and sound. She is resting,” he replied, stating the obvious._

_“I expect a detailed report shortly. Now I'm going to talk to the doctors.”_

_Illya nodded, not having the slightest intention of getting up._

_A few moments later he heard many voices in the corridor, and saw the stretcher go by with Solo, headed towards one of the hospital rooms._

_He whirled to Gaby, who was still asleep, ran a hand over her hair and whispered, “Gaby, Wach auf (wake up). The operation is over. Let's go see Cowboy.”_

_She slowly opened her eyes, lulled by the warm sound of his voice._

_“Is he okay?” She asked, still half asleep._

_“Come on, let's go to him,” he answered, helping her to stand up._

_He put his jacket over her shoulders and, taking her hand, walked towards the room where Napoleon lay in a bed, still sedated._

_Waverly was still talking to one of the doctors, he didn't seem worried, this heartened Gaby._

_“Nice to see you, Sir,” she greeted their boss as they entered Solo’s hospital room._

_“Ah, Teller, at last. Are you alright? Safe and sound?” he smiled at her._

_“Just a few scratches. Thanks to Agent Solo and Agent Kuryakin. Without them I wouldn't be here.”_

_“We'll talk about that later. About the whole mission,” he replied dryly. “Solo should be out of danger. It was hard to find the bullet, but it didn't injure any internal organs, thankfully. He'll wake up in a few hours. Want to go back to the safe house?”_

_“I'm staying here, and I think Illya agrees with me. We'll wait here for Solo to wake up.”_

_“If you prefer. I'll wait for you tomorrow morning, in my office, for the report. Try to rest for a while.”_

_Gaby sat in an easy chair next to Napoleon's bed while Illya took his bags and her coat from the waiting room and carried them into the room. She looked at Solo, in bed with a conspicuous bandage across his chest, very pale. Some blood transfusions got him back on track but he was still very pale. His black hair, which was usually always perfectly combed, was disheveled and framed his face. As a result of the drugs, he slept soundly and quietly._

_“Maybe you should be accompanied to the shelter to rest for a while,” Illya told her once they were alone in the room. “It will take a while for the effect of the anesthesia to wear off.”_

_“And you would let me go alone? Anyway, I wouldn't be able to sleep, I feel calmer being here. I'm too worried about Solo.”_

_He took one of the chairs in the room and pulled it to the bed next to Gaby's._

_“Don't you want to get some sleep?”_

_She shook her head, her whole body was aching, but she didn't want to sleep yet, she wanted to be awake when Napoleon came to his senses._

_“And you? Aren't you tired? You are wounded and you also had to bear my weight.”_

_He laughed softly, "Ты лёгкая, как пёрышко (You are as light as a feather). I'm fine, they gave me painkillers.”_

_He took a book out of his bag and handed it to her._

_“If you want to read a little while waiting.”_

_She glanced at the book and immediately recognized Brecht's book she had bought in Vienna._

_“Did you take it? Why didn't you tell me? I thought I forgot it in that hotel,” she asked him, taking the book in her hand._

_“I took it with me to Berlin. I wanted to finish reading it,” he said, failing to mention how many times he had re-read the poem she had left for him that morning in Vienna.“I hadn't read some of these poems before.”_

_“Did you like them? Aren't poems too sentimental for a Soviet man?”_

_“One day I'll read you something by Pushkin, you'll see.”_

_She laughed ,“You really are a little too romantic to be a KGB spy.”_

_She opened the book and began to read. Napoleon was still asleep, practically motionless on the bed._

_Illya tried to appear calm, but he began to think about the events of the past day and his conclusions worried him._

_Of course someone could have followed Gaby to the meeting place. But their entire mission in Paris should have remained practically secret. Just a few agents of U.N.C.L.E. knew about it. How could another agency, whoever they were, know that the meeting would take place in Paris on that date?_

_He already knew the answer. And he knew it wouldn't bring any good in the future. But now the most important thing for him was Solo’s full recovery and keeping Gaby safe in the meantime._

_The hours passed slowly, he silently kept thinking, constantly checking the condition of his injured partner. Beside him, Gaby had collapsed from sleep and was sleeping with her head on the chair’s armrest, the book open on her lap. She was still wearing his jacket._

_At the first light of dawn, he heard Solo emit a faint groan._

_He gently touched Gaby’s arm to wake her up, and she gasped slightly, immediately opening her eyes._

_“Was ist denn?” (what’s up?) she murmured._

_“I think Cowboy is waking up from the anesthesia.”_

_Happy, she jumped to her feet, knocking the book to the floor and walked over to the bed immediately._

_“Solo? Can you hear me?”_

_He let out a painful moan, moving his head slightly, without opening his eyes, and took a deep breath._

_“Cowboy?”_

_The American opened his swollen eyes slightly, and squeezed them a couple of times. Then slowly, still numb from the anesthesia, said, “I'm not dead this time either, am I?”_

_“Don't joke about that,” she admonished him._

_“And so I'm still stuck here with you two …” he continued with a half smile._

_She smiled and put her hand on his forearm, being careful not to touch the IV._

_“You scared us to death!”_

_They were both relieved to see him finally out of danger._

_“I already told you. You're a terrible spy, Cowboy.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think about this chapter? Did you like it? Next one will be full of fluff, and also Xmas time in London.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm so late with this chapter, I was sick and it took me a while to finish it.  
> I had to split the chapter in two, so Christmas time will be in the next one. ( so more fluff will come!!)  
> November 1963  
> A little bit of everyday life, some quarrels, jealousy, and fluff. I tried to use these chapters to deepen the relationships between Illya, Gaby and Solo. Hope you like it.
> 
> Thanks a lot to my AMAZING beta mrsbonniemellark (please check her stories! ), this chapter was a mess, she saved me!! I will be lost without her.  
> English is not my first language (and I can't speak any Russian or German), so the mistakes are all mine.
> 
> Thanks to the amazing trenko_heart for helping me with German and correcting all my mistakes. She did a great job in this chapter!

**_VI_ **

**_Paris, November 4, 1963_ **

_ On that November Monday morning, Paris was shrouded in a gray haze. The weather was already colder. Gaby moved around Solo's hospital room, trying to fix the things she had brought for him. Two days had passed since the shooting. Napoleon's face had a healthier color and he had already started complaining. _

_ “How long will I have to be confined here? The food is inedible.” He said, dropping his spoon onto the plate. _

_ “It's just breakfast. This isn’t The Plaza Hotel. Eat something and stop complaining. You got shot,” she retorted firmly. Sometimes she wondered how old her two partners were, they were so often childish. _

_ “I remember that well. Can't we go back to the safe house? I'm feeling better already,” he sulked. _

_ “The doctor will decide that. Anyway we’ll go back to London soon. So stop complaining that you can't go see a show at the Moulin Rouge.” _

_ “Where is Peril?” _

_ “He had to finish writing his report and then go see Waverly. He'll also bring our reports to him.” She began to arrange the clothes and towels she had brought for him. _

_ “He shouldn't have gone alone. Waverly won't take it well that our comrade disobeyed his direct order.” _

_ “I think Waverly won't make a big deal out of it. If he hadn't disobeyed orders, we wouldn't be here.” She pulled one of the chairs to his bed and sat down. “I'm more concerned about the total failure of the mission.” _

_ “It wasn't your fault. Peril was right from the start. We both knew someone else was involved. It's our fault, not yours.” Like Illya before, he reassured her. _

_ “Solo, there is also another problem ... Illya and I have only talked about it briefly but-” _

_ “Yeah, I know. I think we should talk to Waverly about that too.” _

_ Gaby started reading a book while Solo was busy with the newspaper, both trying to kill time while they waited for Illya. _

_ About half an hour later, the Russian arrived with Waverly. _

_ “I have read all your reports. I’ll try to ignore that Kuryakin decided on his own to change the plan. Let's just hope that none of Bohne's men noticed him,” their boss said, calmly but firmly. _

_ “Why? Do we still have any hope of meeting the leaders of that Neo Nazi Organization?” she asked, surprised. At this point she thought that the whole operation was blown up. _

_ “We'll see how we can make up for all this mess. Let's wait.” _

_ “With all due respect, Sir, I think the main issue here is another. Nobody should have known about this mission.” He just wanted to get to the heart of the matter immediately. Going around the bush was pointless now. Illya was motionless by the door, his expression inscrutable. _

_ “I know that perfectly well, Solo. We were discussing that matter with Agent Kuryakin before. Perhaps this isn't the right time to address this issue. Nor the right place.” _

_ “What happened to our other agents on the field?” the American continued. _

_ “All dead. Presumably killed by the men who tried to kidnap Miss Teller.” _

_ “All of them?” He was stunned. It had clearly been an operation planned in detail, in order to be able to eliminate several operators at the same time. “And can we discover what type of weapons they used? To find out their nationality.”  _

_ “Not yet. We'll talk about it again when we get to London. You’ll get out of the hospital tomorrow, so you can all go back to the UK. Now excuse me but I have a plane to catch.”And he walked out of the room. _

_ Solo glanced at his Soviet partner, who hadn't said a word all along. “You have nothing to say? What did Waverly say to you? Did he get angry that you ignored his orders?" _

_ “Not particularly. I just told him the facts. I had no other choice,” he answered. _

_ “Illya, did you get checked by the doctor?” Gaby asked him. _

_ He just nodded and continued talking to Solo, “We have to sort this out. Waverly wants to take time, but if things are as we think, Gaby could be in danger again.” _

_ “Will you explain something to me? Stop talking cryptically to each other!” she snapped. _

_ “What Peril meant to say is that there is only one explanation for what happened the other night. But we will explain it to you as soon as we are sure no one is listening to us.” _

_ She rolled her eyes, sometimes she was tired of all this secrecy. She resumed reading the book, since she wouldn't get anything out of those two at that moment.  _

_ Illya went to the window and looked out in silence, leaning against the jamb. _

_ Solo snorted, crumpling the newspaper in his hands. _

_ “And now let's talk about serious matters. What do I have to do for you to bring me something decent to eat?” _

_ - _

**_London, November, 1963_ **

_ Gaby had been back in London for a few days, and was fixing up the house a bit.  _

_ Solo had been the first to return from Paris, due to his injury he had returned earlier with a military helicopter. _

_ Illya, on the other hand, had not yet returned. She didn't know if he had a mission to do for the KGB or for the U.N.C.L.E. _

_ She just hoped that this time he would be back safe and sound. _

_ After a few days spent in the clinic at the London headquarters, Napoleon would soon return home to recover. _

_ They had spent so little time in this new apartment that Gaby still didn't feel it was her home or even a safe haven. However, she had not yet decided whether to seek another accommodation for herself. In that moment, when her personal safety seemed at risk, she didn't really want to live alone. _

_ The apartment was still bare and lacking in the warmth that would allow her to feel comfortable, but it was the closest thing to a home she had had in the past six months. _

_ Now she was walking around the house, barefoot, wearing an over-sized warm white knitted sweater, trying to arrange the few things she had with her. _

_ Waverly had told her she would be in London at least until after Christmas, so she had plenty of time to do some shopping to turn that flat into a cozy home. _

_ Waverly had given her a couple of days off, but she had to get a couple of sessions with the agency psychologist. _

_ She didn't like the idea of being analyzed by a psychologist but she had no choice, having killed a man for the first time. Unfortunately, that experience made her insomnia worse, nightmares were more frequent and she ended up spending most of the night awake reading and listening to music. At dawn, she usually collapsed on the sofa and slept for a few hours. _

_ A couple of days later, Solo finally got out of the hospital and returned to the apartment. _

_ He was surprised to find the house quite tidy and clean. Gaby was usually pretty messy, and he thought he'd find chaos when he got back. _

_ He found her sitting at the kitchen table reading a book while she drank a coffee. _

_ “Solo!” she exclaimed, getting up. “You should have told me that you were getting out today! I would have come to get you.” _

_ She walked over to him and took his bag. “How do you feel?” _

_ He was dressed completely in black, in more casual clothing than his usual. _

_ Napoleon smiled affably, “You know, I love having a beautiful girl who takes care of me but don't worry, I feel better. They have great drugs in the hospital. I don't feel any pain now.” He sat down at the kitchen table. “Now please give me something decent to eat. Or at least some coffee.” _

_ Gaby made him a cup of coffee and cheese toast. _

_ “The fridge is empty, I'll do some groceries shopping afterwards. What did the doctors tell you?” _

_ “A week resting at home, then I go back to work but I’ll do paperwork for a while,” he snorted as he bit the toast. _

_ “Just a week of rest? You got shot! I'm back to work tomorrow, but I still have to do training and then I’ll do paperwork too,”she said and went back to sit at the table, next to him. _

_ “Any news from Peril?” _

_ “As if he ever deigned to make a phone call. I don't even know what he's doing or if he's still in Paris.” _

_ “He's in Paris, working for Waverly. I think he's cleaning the scene and checking out some positions. As soon as he gets back we'll report to the boss.” _

_ “Did you talk to Waverly? Why did he tell me anything?” She set the cup of coffee down on the table, annoyed at being kept in the dark. _

_ Napoleon was silent for a moment, undecided whether or not to answer her question. _

_ “Let's say that Waverly prefers to leave you in the dark about some of our Russian friend's movements.” _

_ “And why?” she felt even more annoyed. _

_ He ran a hand over his forehead and face, and sighed. He wondered why lately he always found himself in that position. _

_ “The boss has long since realized that the bond between you and Peril goes a little beyond the purely professional one -” _

_ She slammed her hand on the table and opened her mouth to answer but he raised a hand to cut her response. _

_ “Wait. Let me finish. He doesn't know if there is a romantic relationship between you two. But he is convinced that both of you lose your clarity of mind when the other’s life is at risk. And I can't blame him.” _

_ Gaby was furious at that point. _

_ “There is no romantic relationship!”she snapped. “How many times I had to tell you that.” _

_ “There is no romantic relationship  _ **_for now_ ** _.” he replied calmly. _

_ She shot him a dirty look, but she didn't have the strength to deny. Not even she knew how long she would be able to maintain her relationship with Illya on a purely professional level. It got harder every day. _

_ “Maybe it's true that in some circumstances I can lose my lucidity but it's not just about Illya. After the shooting I was in a panic for you too. We are partners, it's normal to worry about each other.” _

_ Solo didn't know what to answer. He personally didn't see the bond between his two partners as a problem. It could also be an advantage. And now, in his opinion, it was a little late to try to divide them. Even though they both continued to deny it, their bond had grown deep in those months, hard to break or stifle. But he knew that a romantic relationship between two spies would bring no good. _

_ “Gaby. I honestly don't care what you do in your spare time, when I'm not around. In fact, I think the sooner you admit your feelings for each other, the better. But Waverly is our boss, he sees it differently. Peril has openly disobeyed a direct order from him to come to rescue you.” _

_ “To rescue  _ **_us_ ** _. I understand that he didn't respect the orders but he saved our skin. Yours too, Solo. I was there when he put you on his shoulders and took you to the hospital. He cares about both of us.” _

_ “I know that.” And he really knew. His Soviet partner may have been a pain in the ass but he had already saved his life several times and was loyal. To be a soulless KGB spy he was far too good. _

_ “So instead of questioning his actions, you should be grateful to him. I'm sorry about the mission, but I'd rather have you both here alive.” She jumped up because she could feel her tears burning in her throat and she didn't want to be seen vulnerable by him. She took her book from the table and walked towards the door. _

_ “I am grateful. And I too prefer to be alive,” he grabbed her hand to stop her as she walked out. “I'm on your side. Remember that.” _

_ - _

_ The next day, Gaby went back to work. She spent the morning as usual at the shooting range. She wanted to improve her aim, especially after the events of the week before. _

_ After lunch, she headed for the office that she shared with his two partners.  _

_ She hadn't heard from Illya for days now, and this was starting to make her nervous. She wasn't worried about him, or so she told herself.  _

_ Solo told her that the operations Illya would have to do in Paris weren’t risky at all. But he was still injured, and alone in the City where U.N.C.L.E. had just lost numerous agents. _

_ And anyway, she thought, he might at least make a quick phone call, just to tell her that he was fine. Or that he missed her as she missed him. _

_ She brooded over these thoughts as she walked along the corridor, nearly running into the two British agents she had met a few weeks earlier. _

_ “Agent Teller!” Agent Fry, the tall dark one, called her, trying to get her attention. _

_ Gaby had already realized that his interest in her was not professional.  _

_ She just nodded back at them, and continued on her way, but Fry took her arm, forcing her to stop. She didn’t like to be touched, especially by a stranger, and immediately freed herself. _

_ “Can you keep your hands to yourself, please, Agent Fry?” she exclaimed, annoyed. _

_ “Calm down, Teller, we just wanted to know how you were doing. We heard about Paris,” Agent Jones said, approaching her. _

_ She was shocked by his statement, she didn't know who, inside the U.N.C.L.E., was aware of the mission, but surely the two men didn’t inspire her confidence. _

_ “And why do you know about it?” _

_ “I work on communications here, from the London office. Fry was in Paris to cover your back.” _

_ “I thought the Paris team agents were all killed in action,” she said. _

_ “Luckily not all of them. My two partners and I were monitoring your hotel, Teller. This saved our skin,” Fry answered. _

_ “Good for you.” _

_ “Where are your two partners? I know the vain American was injured.” _

_ She didn't want to share details of Illya and Solo's lives with the two men, so she just shrugged. _

_ “Too bad we didn't get rid of the monstrous Soviet machine-man. For once the Nazis would have been useful,” Fry continued. _

_ Gaby felt the anger rise, and she wanted to knock him down with all the strength she had, but she just clenched her fists, exhaling deeply. _

_ “If you will excuse me, I have some work to do,” she turned and walked quickly away. _

_ She hated those two men, and to think that their safety in Paris had been in the hands of such individuals angered her even more. _

_ Filled with anger and frustration, she entered the office and threw herself into her chair. _

_ - _

_ That evening, after shopping for groceries, Gaby went home. Solo, wearing an apron over his pajamas and dressing gown, was in the kitchen preparing dinner. _

_ She put the groceries on the kitchen’s table and said, “Solo?Shouldn't you rest?” _

_ He turned to look at her, stopping for a moment to cook, “I've been stuck in bed for ten days, I can't bear it any longer.” _

_ “Just don't try too hard,” she said, starting to put the groceries in the fridge. _

_ “You arrived just in time for dinner,” he winked at her as he pulled a pan out of the oven. _

_ She set up for two and sat down at the table. _

_ Napoleon placed a steaming hot plate in front of her and sat down beside her. _

_ She studied the plate for a moment, then gave him a doubtful look. _

_ “It’s a lasagna. You'll like them.” _

_ “Did we have the ingredients to cook a dish like this at home?” _

_ Solo smiled slyly, “Okay then, I confess, I went out for a while this morning to shop in my favorite Italian specialty grocery store." _

_ “You went out? You have to rest in bed! You got shot, damn you!” she exclaimed in annoyance. _

_ “Gabs, I assure you I'm fine. I didn't overdo it. The store is very nearby. Now eat something.” _

_ She decided to let it go and started eating. The food was excellent, one of Solo's best qualities was that he was an excellent cook. _

_ “Do you like it? I love Italian food.” _

_ “It's very good, you have a talent for cooking. I still dream of the delicacies we ate in Rome,” she said with a smile. “But I'll never understand where you get the money to afford this stuff.” _

_ “That’s a secret,” he smiled slyly. _

_ She snorted and continued to eat in silence. _

_ Eating Italian food reminded her of dinners in Rome with Illya, when they were still getting to know each other and she still didn't trust him. _

_ After a few minutes of silence, she found the courage to ask him, “Did Illya call by any chance? Not that I'm worried about him …” _

_ He laughed. “Don't lie to me, I know you are worried about him. But we're talking about a man who can kill three armed men with his bare hands. You have nothing to worry about. But no, he didn't call.” _

_ She snorted, she couldn't hide things from the American anymore, and at this point she was more concerned about something else. _

_ “Solo? I wanted to talk to you about something.” _

_ He was surprised by her tone, and looked at her curiously. _

_ “What's up?” _

_ “I met Agents Fry and Jones at work today.” _

_ “Those two British MI6 agents?” _

_ She nodded. “They both knew about the mission in Paris. Fry was also among the support agents in Paris.” _

_ “Don't you trust them?” he asked, leaning on one elbow. _

_ “I don't know ... they really hate Illya,” she replied, shrugging. _

_ “A Soviet agent doesn't have much sympathy on this side of the Iron Curtain. We'll talk to Waverly, however, as soon as Peril gets back here.” _

_ “Okay.” She couldn't do anything else, so she agreed with him. _

_ “Peril doesn't particularly like those two either. Especially the one that obviously hits on you,” he teased her. _

_ She widened her eyes, “Did Illya tell you something about it?” _

_ “Ah, Peril never talks about these things, but you could read everything on his face. Last time at the gym he was about to explode.” He laughed. _

_ She got up and started clearing the table. “Now go get some rest. I'll wash the dishes.” _

_ She forced him to go back to bed and try to get some sleep while she cleaned the kitchen. Then she took a quick shower and put on more comfortable clothes.  _

_ It was after ten o’clock in the evening, and she was sitting reading a book on the sofa, when suddenly her phone rang. _

_ They rarely received phone calls, except for some sudden communications from Waverly, but that couldn’t be the case. Gaby got up quickly and ran to pick up the phone. _

_ “Hello?” she said, trying not to sound too flustered. _

_ A few moments of silence followed. She knew that Illya was on the other end of the phone, although he hadn't said a word yet. He may have been afraid their phone was being tapped, but Waverly had assured her the line was safe. _

_ At the end of what seemed like an eternity to her, she heard his warm, deep voice . _

_ “I'm fine,  _ _ милая моя _ _ , I'll be back soon.” _

_ She didn't have time to reply that he had already hung up. _

_ She pictured him in a booth on the street in the dark and cold Parisian night and sighed. Even though they hadn't had a real conversation, she was glad that she could hear his voice, and that he had finally called her. When she hung up the phone she saw Solo standing in the doorway of the living room. _

_ “I told you he would call you.” Then he smiled and walked back to his bedroom. _

_ That night Gaby was able to sleep a little more, without nightmares. _

_ The following days followed one another at work without any particular news, she continued her training at the shooting range and the paperwork in the office, that week she only had to translate some documents from German to English. _

_ She met Agent Fry a couple of times, and every time he invited her to go out with him for a cup of coffee. Invitations to which she responded with a cold and polite refusal. _

_ Her injuries were improving and she now walked with almost no discomfort. _

_ Solo stayed home to rest, but he was already much better, and he couldn’t wait to return to his normal life made of elegant clubs and fashionable clothes. _

_ Two evenings later, she sat on the sofa, sipping a drink, telling Napoleon how many female colleagues had stopped her to ask about him. She hadn't changed her dress yet, and was wearing a long-sleeved white knit mini-dress, and white wool over-knee socks. _

_ “Today some of your admirers asked me about you, Solo.” _

_ He was sitting in the armchair and smiled, pleased. “Oh and who in particular? The blonde on the third floor? Or the redhead from the wiretapping department?” _

_ “Both of them. Even the nurse who was treating you came to the office, asking about your conditions." _

_ “Oh Moira, what a lovely girl. She was the only reason I bore staying in the hospital.” _

_ “Obviously I told them you were out on a mission. Moira aside, nobody needs to know about the Paris mission and that you have been injured,” she said, emptying her glass. _

_ “Have you seen Waverly?” he asked. _

_ “He's not back yet. He should come back tomorrow from his trip.” _

_ Solo nodded, getting up from the armchair and walked towards the door. _

_ “I'm going to sleep, I'm tired. Don't stay up late.” _

_ Gaby refilled her glass, took her books and began to study some Russian, lying on the sofa. _

_ She studied for a while then collapsed on the sofa exhausted. She had been sleeping for a couple of hours on the sofa when she felt a presence in her room. Still half-asleep, she felt a blanket being put on her. For a moment, she thought that Solo had come to check on her, but when she felt a gentle caress brushing a lock of her hair away from her face, she understood. She opened her eyes and in her dim light she recognized the figure of Illya kneeling beside the sofa, bending over her. _

_ She smiled at him, still sleepy, “You're back.” _

_ “You should go to sleep in your room, you'll get cold if you sleep here.” _

_ Gaby couldn't resist the temptation and threw her arms around his neck, holding him close. He was surprised by her sudden gesture, but a moment later he returned her embrace. _

_ She was immediately reassured by his warm familiar scent. _

_ “Are you okay?" she murmured, touching his neck with her lips. _

_ “Safe and sound.” _

_ Illya had never known what it meant to come home to someone who was waiting for him. Until now, ending a mission meant to him only being able to survive and have a few hours of rest. But now he truly understood the real meaning of coming home.  _

_ It was coming back to her, being able to hold her in his arms, feeling her warmth on his skin. _

_ “I missed you,” she whispered into his ear. Those simple words raised a violent happiness in his chest, a feeling of warmth that spread throughout all his body.  _

_ He held her even tighter to him. “I missed you too. A lot.” _

_ They hugged for a while in silence, enjoying the warm sensation of the hug, relieved that they were for once able to express their feelings clearly. _

_ Then Illya slipped his left arm under her legs and picked her up. _

_ “It's time to go to sleep now.” _

_ She felt so small in his arms, as she continued to hold on to him. He carried her to her bedroom, and placed her gently on the bed. _

_ Gaby released her embrace only after a few moments, struggling to ask him to stay there with her. _

_ She knew he wouldn't make a move without her asking him before he did. _

_ She sat on her bed while he, stroking her hair, kissed her on the cheek. _

_ "Good night little chop shop girl." _

_ Then he straightened up and walked towards the door, but she stopped him, taking his hand. This immediately reminded him of their first night, in the Plaza Hotel in Rome. _

_ “Illya…” she said softly. “Don't you want to stay a little longer?” _

_ He turned to her and answered her, with a small smile, “As you wish,” _

_ So he walked towards her again, not releasing her hand. “How's your leg? Does it still hurt?” _

_ He could see the bandage protruding beneath her over-knees stocking sock. _

_ “It's much better, it hardly hurts anymore. I can walk easily now.” _

_ He knelt in front of her, beside the bed. “Show me,” he asked with a warm, low voice. _

_ She lifted her right leg and he brought his hands close to her skin but before touching her, he looked into her eyes, tacitly asking for her permission. She nodded with a small, teasing smile. _

_ He rubbed his hands quickly, like that time in Rome, and blew to warm them.  _

_ Then keeping eye contact he brought his hands to her thigh and touched her gently. He took her leg softly, resting her foot on his thigh. Gaby felt a shiver run down her spine and held her breath. She had goosebumps all over her body. _

_ He, perceiving her slight jolt, remained motionless, “Are my hands too cold again? Or do you feel pain?” _

_ She shook her head, feeling the blush rising to her face, she could find the guts to tell him that the reason for her goosebumps was him. “No, no, I'm fine,” she replied smiling. _

_ His hands moved slowly again, caressing her skin, until they reached the edge of her stocking, which covered her bandage. _

_ Gently he grabbed the edge of the sock and began to slowly pull it off. _

_ His fingers ran slowly down her leg, and she thought her heart was about to explode in her chest. For a moment, she wondered if he could hear her heartbeat too. _

_ After pulling off her stocking, he placed it on the bed beside her, and slipped his hand down to her ankle. He squeezed it gently in his hand and re-positioned her foot on his thigh. _

_ Then he began to gently remove her bandages, until her leg was completely bare and her wounds exposed. She was already healing and clearly it was nothing serious. Especially compared to the wounds of her two partners. She didn't even need stitches. _

_ He took the disinfectant and gauze she kept on the nightstand near her bed and began to disinfect her wounds. Even though they were almost healed, as soon as the gauze touched her knee, she immediately felt a burning itching. _

_ The sudden sting made her flinch and he immediately noticed it. _

_ “Does it sting?” he asked, attentive. _

_ “Just a little.” _

_ Then he bent down over her knee and gently blew on her scratches. _

_ She laughed softly, out of the tenderness of his gesture, but her heart leapt into her throat as she felt his lips on her skin as he gave her a little peck on her injured knee. _

_At this point she was totally gone for him, and she watched him_ _mesmerized_ _as he continued to disinfect her wound and re-bandaged the knee._

_ He looked up at her again. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment that seemed interminable to both of them. She loved his eyes, so blue and clear, his eyes that looked like a little piece of sky. His eyes that were able to be glacial and cold but also so sweet and passionate when they rested on her. _

_ Then he slowly let his hand slide up her leg, from the outside of her knee to her thigh, slowly, giving her time to pull back. But she didn't want him to stop. _

_ She reached out both hands, touching him, first on his shoulders, then stroking his neck, from the back of his head to his jaw. _

_ His hand stroked her right thigh, until it reached the hem of her white mini dress. She let out a deep, long breath. He played with the edge of her dress for a moment as if to buy time. _

_ “О, Господи, Я люблю твои ногu, “ (Oh God, I love your legs) he whispered in a low husky voice “Я люблю твои губы и твои глаза.” ( I love your lips and your eyes) _

_ From the way he looked at her she could almost understand what he was saying. That look was unmistakable. In his eyes she saw his burning desire and passion. _

_ Then she decided to take her initiative, she couldn't wait any longer, so she slipped her bare right foot along his thigh, stroking it one, two, three times.  _

_ Illya had his gaze totally enraptured by her, fixed on her. He let out a small moan and Gaby drew him towards her. _

_ She brought both of her hands to either side of his face, stroking and guiding him toward her. _

_ The tension between them grew and she could hardly breathe. _

_ Totally taken by the moment, they both noticed Solo's voice coming from the corridor only when he knocked on the door. _

_ “Gaby? Are you okay? I thought I heard voices before.” _

_ Gaby mentally cursed living with two overprotective spies and answered. _

_ “It's okay, Solo. I was just talking to Illya.” The exact moment she finished the sentence, she saw the Russian's eyes widen as he shook his head. But it was too late, Napoleon was already opening the door to enter. _

_ She rolled her eyes and silently mouthed at Illya, “Sorry.” _

_ He immediately removed his hand from her leg, just before Napoleon stepped out the door. _

_ “Did Peril call again?Oh-” _

_ The American immediately understood the kind of situation he had just interrupted, also for the evident violent blush on the faces of both his colleagues and for the slightly murderous look they were giving him. _

_ “Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt whatever you were doing. I couldn't sleep and I heard voices, I thought-” _

_ “Illya was helping me change my bandage,” she exclaimed. _

_ “Definitely,” Solo replied even though it was clear that the bandage change had evolved into something else. Something more intimate and decidedly spicy.  _

_ This time he almost felt guilty for ruining their intimate moment. “I would never have gone in if I had known that Peril was back.”  _

_ Solo decided he had to start being more discreet, or next time he risked catching them in even more compromising positions. Or with fewer clothes on. _

_ The Russian lightly stroked her ankle before standing up again. _

_ “Cowboy, I have to talk to you about something important,” then he turned to Gaby with a sweeter expression, “in the meantime try to get some sleep, милая” _

_ “Let's talk over there, in the living room, we need to prepare for tomorrow's meeting with Waverly.” _

_ “Okay, I'll update you on what I discovered in Paris this week.” _

_ “I heard it, you know, Peril,” Napoleon said with a mocking smile. _

_ Illya just gave him a dirty look. _

_ “I heard how you called Gaby,” he teased. _

_ “замолчи!” ( shut up!) _

_ And the two of them left the room leaving Gaby alone sitting on the bed. As the door closed, she sank onto the bed with a huge sigh. This time they had come really close. She couldn't stand all that tension between her and Illya anymore. And she didn't want to leave things as they were anymore. She wanted more, she wanted him all to herself. _

_ - _

_ The next morning they all went to work. Solo had the control visit for his wound, and Illya was examined by the doctor too, at Gaby's insistence. _

_ Then they took their places at their desks and did some paperwork for a few hours.  _

_ The Russian finished his report of the operations he had carried out in Paris and arranged the material for Waverly. _

_ Their boss had just returned from a mysterious journey, whose destination was classified. _

_ Shortly after lunch, he called them into his office to finally finish the conversation they had started at the hospital in Paris. _

_ First, The Englishman inquired about their physical condition. _

_ “So, chaps. How are you doing? Are you recovering? Unfortunately I'm afraid I can't give you too much time for rest. We still need your skills.” _

_ “No problem, Sir,” Solo replied on behalf of all three. _

_ “But fear not, it will be simple chores, information gathering, nothing too dangerous at least until after Christmas.” He smiled amicably. “So, Kuryakin, did you sort things out after we left Paris? Please, give me your report.” _

_ The Soviet agent approached the table and handed him the folder with all the documentation he had brought from Paris. _

_ “With the cleaning team, we have recovered the corpse of our agents fallen on the field, and organized the return to the homeland and contacted their families. We have cleaned up our tracks. Unfortunately we still have no significant results from the ballistic analysis. Almost all the bullets we have found are from German guns.” _

_ “From Walthers pistols, PKK, I see,” he said, flipping through the report. _

_ “Yes, Sir. But we also found some bullets from a Browing Hi-Power.” _

_ Solo turned to this statement, because he usually used a Browing Hi-Power as his personal hand-gun. _

_ “Are you sure they aren’t from my gun, Peril?” _

_ The other shook his head “Tsk. That gun killed one of our operators, far away from yours and Gaby's position." _

_ “So what are your conclusions on the matter, Agent Kuryakin?” Waverly asked. _

_ “I think they deliberately used several types of guns in order not to let us know which Agency the men who attacked Teller belonged to.” _

_ Waverly nodded, “And what else did you discover?” _

_ “When we arrived, the bodies of the attackers had already disappeared. The scene was clear. We could only recover the bullets in the bodies of our fallen.” _

_ “Their cleanup team surely cleaned the scene as you two ran to save Agent Solo's life.” _

_ “I continued to monitor the meeting cafe and the Hotel where Agent Teller stayed.” _

_ “Anything new?” _

_ “The next day, the owners of that Cafe got a phone call. From what I heard, Bohne immediately left for Italy.” _

_ “Italy? And do we know exactly where and why?” _

_ “I'm sorry, Sir, not at the moment. But the Paris team is still keeping an eye on the place.” _

_ Waverly nodded. “Splendid! So at least you got forgiven for ignoring my orders during the mission, Kuryakin,” he joked. _

_ “Excuse me, Sir, but we still need to talk with you about the other issue,” said Napoleon. _

_ The American and his Soviet partner had already talked privately about their doubts and perplexities, and the way their boss was dealing with it didn’t satisfy them at all. _

_ “Okay, let's talk about it, then, Mr. Solo.” _

_ “It’s clear that the reason why the Paris mission was a complete fiasco isn’t our own inefficiency. You assured us that very few people were aware of the details of the mission.” _

_ “And so it was indeed. Strictly necessary personnel only knew about it.” _

_ “Well then, we have a big damn problem here, Sir. I think you know very well too. There is a mole inside the U.N.C.L.E.” he said, determined. _

_ “I have to agree with you on this, Solo.” _

_ “And what do you intend to do about it?” the American continued. _

_ Gaby, who was sitting right in front of Waverly's desk, shifted her weight onto the seat uncomfortably. _

_ A troubled silence fell for a few minutes in the room. _

_ “I'll have to work on this for a while, I need more time. You can't make accusations without certain proof.” _

_ At that point, Illya broke into the conversation abruptly. _

_ “With all due respect, Sir, we're not just talking about someone selling our mission details to other Agencies. Gaby's safety is at stake here!” His voice was already upset. _

_ “Illya, please,” she murmured, worried that the discussion might escalate quickly. She knew that to protect her, he would be capable of anything. _

_ “We all care about Miss Teller's safety here. That I can assure you, Kuryakin.” _

_ “We can't be sure she’s safe even here in London, or inside the HQ.” _

_ Waverly gave him a dark look. “There will be no problems, I assure you. Miss Teller is perfectly safe here.” _

_ The Russian started to reply but Gaby jumped up, grabbing his wrist, as she did every time she tried to control his raging anger. _

_ “I'm sure I'm not in danger here. But I'd also like to know why I became a target, and why now there is even a mole selling information about my movements.” _

_ “Don't worry, I'll get to the bottom of this, you have my word. You're still an agent under my responsibility, Teller.” _

_ Soon after they were discharged, Illya went back to his desk to sort out the documents she had collected in Paris, while Gaby decided to go to the garage to work on some cars, and get distracted a bit. _

_ Solo was held back by Waverly in the office for a private conversation. _

_ “Regarding our last conversation, Mr. Solo, do you have any news to report?” _

_ “Are you referring to the state of relations between Agent Kuryakin and Agent Teller, Sir?” _

_ “Our Soviet friend is too sentimentally involved. He already has a difficult character to handle, but when it comes to Miss Teller he becomes unmanageable.” _

_ Napoleon knew very well where his loyalty lied. _

_ “He has a very difficult character to handle, I agree with you. But he is an excellent agent. Despite his episodes, in conditions of extreme danger he stays lucid. I don't feel like condemning his work in the last few missions. He is a great spy.” _

_ “I'm glad you praise your partner when he can't hear you. But we're talking about romantic relationships between two spies.” _

_ “The situation is perfectly under control. There have been no inappropriate behaviors. And during the missions they both maintain their professionalism. As far as I know, there is no romantic relationship between the two of them,” he said, standing up to go out. “And I don't want to be questioned about it anymore. It's none of my business and if you want clarification on the status of their relationship, please ask them, not me.” _

_ He closed the door behind him and went back to his desk, next to his Russian partner's. _

_ Whatever would happen in the future between those two crazy heads, Solo had decided to stay on their side. _

_ - _

_ Back home that evening, all three were in the living room after dinner. Illya was sitting in an armchair trying to play chess by himself. Napoleon was reading the newspaper and Gaby was reading a book sitting on the couch, sipping vodka. _

_ She glanced at Illya from behind the book, but he was too absorbed in his game to notice. She then turned to the American. _

_ “Solo, talking about this mole... do you really think it's possible that someone is selling information about us?” _

_ “What happened cannot be a coincidence.” _

_ The Russian lifted his head from the chessboard, following the conversation in silence. _

_ “I just want to understand why all these people seem to be so interested in me.” _

_ “You're a pretty wanted girl,” he winked at her. “But fear not, here at home and at the office you are safe. And we will protect you during the missions.” _

_ “Everything seems so absurd to me,” she stated. _

_ “Don't worry, Peril won't let anyone get anywhere near you, but I don't know if that is necessarily good for you,” Napoleon replied laughing. _

_ The Russian just gave him a sidelong glance from across the room. _

_ “Rather, let's talk about more important things, little Gabs.” _

_ “What do you mean?” she asked, putting the book down on the coffee table. _

_ “We skipped the Halloween celebration for work, but it's Thanksgiving in two weeks,” he smiled, charming. _

_ “What? I don't know either of the two festivities. Are these some American celebrations?” _

_ “Halloween’s origins are from the UK. Thanksgiving is an American festivity. I'd like to cook at least one nice dinner for us.” _

_ “What is it about?” she kept asking. _

_ “We're not going to celebrate that stupid American celebration,” Illya muttered, staring at the board again. _

_ “Ah I don't take lessons from you on the matter,” retorted the American. “I'll cook the turkey and we'll all eat it together.” _

_ “That’s not happening.” _

_ Gaby knew they wouldn't stop arguing over the subject. _

_ “Well maybe this festivity is too American for the two of us. You could cook a nice dinner but with no reference to Thanksgiving,” she said, trying to reach a compromise. _

_ “I won't eat anything anyway,” Illya continued to keep his gaze fixed on the chessboard. _

_ “Come on, Illya, don't sulk. For you it will be just a dinner like any other. No decorations or American references.” _

_ The Russian didn’t answer, shrugging his shoulders. _

_ Napoleon got up and threw the newspaper on the armchair. “I can't wait for December to come so we can fight over the Christmas party,” he laughed slyly. _

_ “Oh! At Christmas we should all be here, we can celebrate together!” She cheered, clapping her hands together. _

_ “Good luck with our dear comrade Grinch, there!” _

_ “Grinch? What’s that?” she asked puzzled. _

_ “He's a character from a children's book,” Illya answered. _

_ “Oh!I see you're up to date on American literature. He's a little monster who hates Christmas. I'll buy you the book, Gabs.” Solo walked towards the door “And, please, don't make too much noise or I will be forced to interrupt your totally friendly activities once again! Goodnight!” _

_ Gaby and Illya, left alone in the living room, were silent for a while. _

_ He continued his solitary chess game, she refilled her glass and reopened the book she was reading. _

_ After about twenty minutes, she stopped reading and began glancing at the Russian. She wanted to draw his attention, but she didn't want to interrupt his concentration. She was waiting for him to finally look at her. He had only given her a few quick glances the whole evening.  _

_ She felt like it was their first night in Rome, when he tried in every way to ignore her, and she made a mess to get his attention. _

_ “Who wins?” She finally exclaimed, claiming his gaze on her. _

_ He didn't answer, but finally raised his head from the chessboard and gave her a tender small smile. _

_ “Are you alright? Tonight you are taciturn. Well more than usual.” _

_ “I was just lost in my thoughts. What are you reading?” _

_ “Ah, I bought this book last week, it's really compelling. It's called The man in the High Castle. Basically the story is set in an alternate reality where Nazis-” _

_ “Yes, I know. I read it a few months ago,” he nodded. _

_ “You really read a lot.” _

_ “I'm used to spending a lot of time alone.” _

_ “Come here and sit next to me on the sofa,” she said in a softer tone. _

_ He got up and walked over to the sofa to sit next to her. _

_ “How do you feel? Are the wounds better?” she whispered to him. _

_ “Yes, much better,” as he finished the sentence he reached out to take something from her jacket pocket, which was resting on the arm of the sofa. “I have something for you.” _

_ She laughed. “You don't need to buy me gifts.” _

_ “I promised I would read it to you, and my copy is in Moscow.” _

_ He handed her a small blue package, its shape already showing its contents. _

_ She opened it, it was a small volume with Pushkin's poems, in Russian but also with the English translation. _

_ “So you can also appreciate Russian poetry,” he smiled at her. _

_ He had that tempting smile and that playful light in his eyes. It was a smile and a look he usually reserved only for her, in their private moments. _

_ She curled up against the back of the sofa, and handed him the book again.  _

_ “Do you want to read me something?” _

_ He took the book and lay down on the sofa, resting his head on her lap.  _

_ He opened the book, and leafed through it for a moment. He glanced at her before starting to read Russian aloud. _

_ “Я вас любил: любовь еще, быть может, _

_ В душе моей угасла не совсем; _

_ Но пусть она вас больше не тревожит; _

_ Я не хочу печалить вас ничем. _

_ Я вас любил безмолвно, безнадежно, _

_ То робостью, то ревностью томим; _

_ Я вас любил так искренно, так нежно, _

_ Как дай вам бог любимой быть другим. “ _

_ And then he read the English translation, slowly. His warm soft voice sent a shiver down her spine. _

_ “I loved you; and perhaps I love you still, _

_ The flame, perhaps, is not extinguished; yet _

_ It burns so quietly within my soul, _

_ No longer should you feel distressed by it. _

_ Silently and hopelessly I loved you, _

_ At times too jealous and at times too shy. _

_ God grant you find another who will love you _

_ As tenderly and truthfully as I.” _

__

_ Eventually, he was silent for a few minutes, as if he were rereading all the poetry in his head. _

_ “It's a very beautiful poem, but it's also very sad,” she said, breaking the stillness. _

_ “It was unrequited love.” _

_ “Or maybe if he had the courage to confess his true feelings to her.” _

_ “Maybe. Or maybe he was waiting for her to let him know that she loved him back.” he answered her, he placed the open book on his chest and looked into her eyes. _

_ “If you wait too long, the right time may never come.”  _

_ She brushed a lock of blond hair from his forehead. His eyes were locked on hers. _

_ At that point she no longer knew if they were talking about the poem or about their feelings. _

_ “Sometimes there are good reasons that prevent you from expressing what you really feel,” Illya replied, and slowly captured her hand in his. _

_ The silence fell between them, and they continued to look into each other's eyes for several minutes, without saying a word. _

_ After a few minutes, he brought her hand close to his lips and gave her a little kiss on the palm. _

_ “Tell me about when you were a child,” he suddenly asked her. _

_ “There isn't much to tell. After my father ran away, my mother and I remained stuck in East Berlin. I was six, I don't remember much.” _

_ “If you don't want to talk about it, it doesn't matter,” he said, giving another small peck on the palm of her hand. _

_ “It's not that I don't want to talk about it. I also have good memories, evenings at home with my mother, dance lessons. She tried not to make me miss anything. Unfortunately, too much work made her sick and then she died.” _

_ “How old were you?” he asked her, stroking her small hand with his thumb. _

_ “I was 14. It was shortly after my first performance as a soloist. Luckily my stepfather was there. He always treated me well, until he died.”  _

_ She didn't want to think about her sad past anymore, but she also wanted to share something of herself with him.  _

_ “An amazing car arrived in the garage today. If I ever have the money, I'll buy one. Or I’ll make Waverly give it to me for a mission,” she continued, abruptly changing the subject. She preferred to talk about more exciting things than her childhood in East Berlin. _

_ Illya didn't seem bothered by the new topic of conversation, he continued to keep all her attention fixed on her. _

_ “What car was it?” He also loved cars, in the end he was a very good driver. Even if not as good as her. _

_ “An Aston Martin BD5! It just came out a few months ago. You should have seen it. It's gorgeous. British engine with Italian design bodywork. A dream,” she exclaimed enthusiastically. _

_ He laughed softly, a real laugh, the kind he rarely did. _

_ “Waverly will never let you drive it.” _

_ “Sei still wenn du leben willst.(Shut up if you want to live) I'll be able to convince him to let me drive that car, no matter what,” she muttered, patting him on the shoulder. “Oh, Illya, I wanted to ask you something.” _

_ “Mmmhh?” _

_ “I was thinking of going shopping for something new for the flat, this Saturday we could go to the Portobello Road market, to find something nice. I should also buy some heavier clothes for the winter. A new coat maybe.” _

_ “We could go to Oxford Street if you need some new clothes.” _

_ “Yesterday Rita, Waverly's secretary, told me that they are opening a lot of innovative clothing stores on Carnaby Street, I also want to go there.” _

_ “You better ask Waverly to include your new wardrobe on this month's expenditure list then,” he laughed again. She loved when he laughed. It was so rare to see him laugh that when it did she was always dazzled by it. Everything around her was lit up. _

_ Then Illya got up from the sofa and left the book on the table. _

_ “I'm going to get some sleep, Goodnight, милая моя, (my sweet)” he said, bending over her to kiss her on the cheek. Then he disappeared into his bedroom. _

_ Gaby stayed on the sofa, reading Pushkin until she fell asleep. _

_ But when she woke up the next morning, she was in her own bed.  _

_ Probably during the night, without her noticing, Illya had carried her in his arms to bed, as he often did when he found her asleep on the couch. _

_ The rest of the week she spent relatively quiet. Illya was engaged in a series of surveillance works on sensitive targets, in support of other U.N.C.L.E. teams, Gaby continued her judo training in the gym, and spent the rest of the day in the garage, working on car modifications. Napoleon, on the other hand, spent most of the week still at home resting, then he went to work for a couple of days, to overcome boredom, to do some paperwork, but above all to flirt with all the female staff in the HQ. _

_ That Saturday morning of mid-November, when Gaby got up it was relatively early for her, Illya and Solo were sitting at the kitchen table having breakfast. She walked into the room, wearing only the oversized shirt of her pajamas and a pair of woolen socks, looking for a cup of coffee.  _

_ “Guten Morgen, Ich brauche einen Kaffee” (Good morning, I need coffee). _

_ Napoleon looked up from the newspaper and greeted her with a smile.  _

_ “Good morning, Gaby. If you are hungry there still are some eggs and toast.” _

_ Then he turned, amused to look at his Russian partner. _

_ Illya didn't say a single word, just staring at her across the room. His mouth was slightly wide open, and he had stopped eating. _

_ Meanwhile, Gaby tried to reach one of the cups in the upper kitchen cabinet, but failed. In an attempt to reach up, her shirt lifted, uncovering her legs almost completely and showing a bit of her white satin underwear.  _

_ The American jumped up from his seat, to reach her and take the cup in her place, while Illya began to cough convulsively. After taking a sip of coffee, he quickly got up from the table muttering a brusque, “I've got something to finish before we go out,” and ran out of the kitchen. _

_ Napoleon handed her the cup, amused. “Have you decided to kill our Red Peril?” _

_ She looked at him puzzled. “I don't understand what you mean.” _

_ He looked her up and down. “Look, I really appreciate the sight of you half undressed so early in the morning, but I think it's a bit too much for that Soviet man. Unless you want to give him a heart attack, next time I suggest you put on some pants.” _

_ She widened her eyes “Shut up! There's nothing improper about how I'm dressed. And I usually wear skirts only a little longer than this.” _

_ “I assure you it's not the same thing. Have mercy on that poor man,” he grinned. “he was choking on a piece of bread.” _

_ She decided to ignore him, and poured herself some coffee, and said, “This morning we are going shopping, do you want to come with us?” _

_ “No thanks, I'll pass. I’ll finally go to the tailor's to get my new suit. Anyway, I can't resist a whole day with the two of you.” _

_ “Don't take the opportunity to call one of your lady friends, you're still recovering from your injury.” _

_ “Being looked after by a beautiful woman never hurt anyone,” he replied, winking at her as he walked out of the kitchen. _

_ - _

_ A few hours later, Gaby managed to drag Illya into the busy Portobello Road flea market. It was a pleasant day, even if it was starting to get cold.  _

_ She wore a short bright orange wool dress, a short white coat and white ankle boots. She had bought those clothes herself in Paris and she was quite satisfied with her choice. She hoped he would like them too. He, as usual, wore gray trousers and a dark blue turtleneck, under his short navy jacket. When they left the house, he saw her outfit, and he smiled at her, so she took it as a nod of approval. _

_ The street was full of people and stalls, overflowing with objects of all kinds.  _

_ She started looking for some interesting things to buy for the house. Colorful pillows, frames, photographs, anything that could give a little more character to the apartment and make it seem more like a real home. He followed her closely, almost always in silence, but looking more relaxed than usual. _

_ She would show him some furniture items and he would just nod if he approved them or shake his head in amusement if he didn't. _

_ Despite his austere appearance, the Russian's taste was always impeccable. _

_ While she was looking for some paintings to hang in the living room, she turned around and noticed that he had remained behind, in front of a stall full of cameras, and old black and white photographs. _

_ She retraced her steps and walked over to him. _

_ “Did you find anything interesting?” she asked him. _

_ He took a small camera in his big hand. “Yes, this one. It's Ricohflex III, a Japanese camera from about 13 years ago. I've always wanted one.” _

_ “The cameras you have look great for the job.” _

_ “Yes, but I would keep this for myself, to take more personal photos.” _

_ “I didn't know you were so interested in photography outside of work,” she smiled at him. She often wondered how many other surprises that man could still reserve for her. _

_ Illya bought the camera and she bought some old London black and white photos to hang around the house. _

_ “Then we'll hang up your photos as soon as you show me some,” she teased him. _

_ After a further tour of the flea market, they decided to go for lunch and then move on to Oxford Street, where Gaby would buy some winter clothes and a new coat.  _

_ Or rather, where Illya would choose new clothes for her. Usually she didn't like too much being dressed like a doll, but lately she began to like having his attention on her. However, she reserved the right to have the final word on what to buy. _

_ - _

_ Gaby was trying on some clothes he had selected for her in a very chic women's fashion store, when she heard the voice of the saleswoman addressing him in a mellow tone. _

_ It couldn’t have been common for female shop assistants to have a good-looking blond man, nearly two meters tall in their shop. He certainly didn’t go unnoticed. _

_ She peeked out from behind the dressing room curtain to see what was happening. _

_ A red-haired saleswoman approached him with the excuse of recommending how to match a dress. Illya was usually very determined when it came to fashion combinations, and he didn't need any advice. He just nodded politely, giving the woman a small smile. _

_ A smile certainly not comparable to those he gave her, this one seemed more like a fake smile out of courtesy than anything else, yet Gaby still felt a deep annoyance. When the red-haired woman put a hand on his forearm as if they were in confidence, she jumped out of the dressing room abruptly. “So, what do you think about this dress?” she said annoyed. _

_ She was wearing a short, long-sleeved green Pierre Cardin dress, simple but striking. _

_ He approached her to observe how the dress fit her. _

_ “Not bad, though quite simple. Would you like to try this white coat? I think it would look good. Try this red too.” _

_ “Okay. As long as you're not too busy to waste your time on me,” she replied, giving him a dirty look. _

_ “What do you mean?” _

_ “Forget it. I’ll try this stuff on and then we leave.” _

_ Illya looked at her puzzled, still not understanding what the problem was. _

_ She hurried to try on all the clothes and decided to buy everything she had tried, just to get out of that stupid shop quickly. And she didn't want to admit even to herself the reason for her annoyance. _

_ After walking for a hundred meters in silence, during which she had always sulked, he asked her, perplexed, “So you want to tell me what that was?” _

_ And since she didn't even look him in the face he asked again, “What did I do?” _

_ “What did you do? You know it very well. You can't be so stupid,” she replied angrily. _

_ “Gaby, I don't understand. Maybe it must be some cultural barrier. If I've said something that offended you, then I'm sorry-” _

_ “It's not what you said, but what you did,” she grumbled. _

_ “And what did I do?” at this point he sounded almost exasperated. _

_ “You spent all your time in that shop flirting with that saleswoman. I saw you, you know? I was there, too.” _

_ He widened his eyes, “I didn't! I didn't flirt with anyone at all!” He took her wrist gently to stop her. “And then .. sorry but are you jealous?” _

_ At those words she felt the blush rise to her face “Absolutely not! But you promised to help me choose my new clothes, and instead I find you showing off your Solo style moves with the first red-haired saleswoman who  _ _ flutters her eyelashes at you. _ _ ” _

_ “My Solo what? Don't say that, not even as a joke. I was just trying to be polite. We Russians know how to be polite too, you know? I wasn't flirting with anyone. And you know perfectly well I only looked at you all day.” The last part of the sentence came out of his mouth without his wanting it, but being compared to a womanizer like Solo was a bit too much for him. _

_ Apparently those words had the desired effect, because she stopped arguing, and sulking. She was silent for a while but then after a few hundred meters she took him by the arm, to continue their walk quietly. _

_ They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the city. They went shopping at Selfridge, a huge historic high-end department store, and she couldn't remember ever seeing such a large store. Then they continued walking towards Soho. Gaby adored London, its particular charm, even though she didn't like its humid climate so much. She liked its streets so full of life and lights. They walked around Soho’s streets for a while, also crossing Carnaby Street, one of the most fashionable streets of London. The street was full of fashionable young people, beautiful cars and vibrant colors, and she was enthusiastic. _

_ Regent Street was already decorated for Christmas’s holidays. Bright spheres of light, stars and angels of light were everywhere. _

_ Gaby hadn't celebrated Christmas in years. When her mother was still alive, she cooked a special dinner and they exchanged small gifts, but after her death Gaby had stopped celebrating. She didn’t even celebrate the New Year anymore.  _

_ But this year was different for her, and London had given her back the joy of waiting for Christmas. _

_ Illya obviously found everything in London very excessive. Although he had already lived in the UK and also in New York for a few years, he always found it difficult to get used to the excesses of capitalism. _

_ “I can't wait to celebrate Christmas this year,” she told him as they walked home. _

_ “We don't celebrate Christmas in Russia.” _

_ “I know that, I grew up in East Berlin, remember?” she snorted. “But this year you might make an exception. It will be like celebrating the New Year a little earlier.” _

_ He opened his mouth to reply but he noticed her annoyed expression, and not wanting to fight with her again, he let it go. They would have other opportunities to argue over this matter in the future. _

_ - _

_ By the time they got home, Napoleon had already finished making dinner. _

_ Although it had only been two weeks since he had been shot, the American was already back in good shape, despite the fact that he was still forced to wear an arm sling. _

_ As soon as they got back, Illya hurried into his bedroom to get back to work, while Gaby gave Solo the report of the day, in great detail, enthusiastically describing everything they had seen. _

_ It had been a long time since she had spent a cheerful day completely free from bad thoughts. _

_ After dinner, she began to arrange the new purchases in the apartment, although she decided to wait to hang the paintings and photographs she had bought. _

_ Napoleon stayed in the living room watching television while she arranged the new dresses in her closet. _

_ Illya hadn't even left the room to dine, so she decided to bring him something to eat. _

_ She knocked on his door, holding a plate of roast and mashed potatoes, but when he didn't come to open the door, she entered. _

_ He was sitting at his desk with his back to the door, with headphones on, he was listening to recordings while transcribing some of them. _

_ As soon as she walked into his bedroom, he turned to look at her.  _

_ She knew it was virtually impossible to take him by surprise. _

_ She smiled at him and walked over to the desk, placing the plate, fork and knife on it. _

_ He lowered the headphones and smiled at her. _

_ “I'm sorry I didn't want to bother you, I didn't know you still had to work,” she said softly. “I brought you something to eat.” _

_ “Thank you. I have to finish these transcripts by Monday but it's nothing urgent. I'll finish it later.” _

_ “Can I stay here for a while?” she asked, sitting on his bed. _

_ “Where is Cowboy?” _

_ “He's in the living room, I think even if he doesn't show it, he's a bit tired.” _

_ He just nodded as he began to eat the roast. _

_ Meanwhile she began to observe his bedroom, it wasn't the first time she was there but the room seemed somehow different. Illya was the one among them who had spent the least time in that apartment, yet the room already reminded her of him. _

_ His clothes were still partly in a dark suitcase propped on a chair, half open.  _

_ Three bags, which she recognized as the ones he had with him in Paris, lay on the ground nearby. His light brown jacket was resting on a chair. On the bedside table a stack of books in Russian, and the camera he had bought that morning. _

_ The other camera was on the desk next to a pile of documents and photographs. A black and white photo protruded from one of the books on the bedside table.  _

_ Gaby reached out to take it out of the book. The old photo was worn and had a torn corner. A blond boy was smiling cheerful at the camera next to his parents. She had never seen him so happy. Suddenly she was ashamed of having violated his privacy, just out of curiosity and she raised her head to look at him. _

_ “Sorry, I didn't want to nose around your things-” she murmured. _

_ But he didn't seem angry, and he just gave her a little smile. _

_ “Don't worry. It's okay,” he said, taking the photo from her hands. “It's the memory of a beautiful day.” _

_ She continued to feel ashamed, and she was silent for a while while he finished eating. _

_ After a few minutes of silence, she found the courage to speak again. _

_ “Do you miss Moscow? You haven't been home for months.” _

_ “Yes. Very much.” _

_ “How is it? Moscow?” _

_ “It is very beautiful. Almost as beautiful as you,” he answered her, giving her a seductive smile, and throwing her a playful look. _

_ She loved his way of flirting with her, and even though she always tried to look indifferent, sometimes she couldn't help but smile. _

_ “I'm sure you would like it very much. Its architecture. The streets. The parks. There is a place I would love to take you, Колояменское (Kolomenskoye). It was once a royal estate, near the Moskva River, now it’s part of the city and is a park with very impressive buildings.” _

_ “You know, I'll never go back beyond the Iron Curtain,” and it was true, she would never come back, not even for him. _

_ His smile turned sad. “I know. But it would be nice to be able to go together  _ **_someday_ ** _.” _

_ “Maybe  _ **_someday_ ** _ ,” she replied, she didn't want to make him promises that she knew she couldn't keep. She didn't even know how long they could be together, being so close. _

_ Suddenly a thought made its way into her head, it was an absurd thought but she couldn't help but ask. _

_ “Do you have someone waiting for you in Moscow?” she murmured in a hesitant voice, playing with the edge of his bedspread. _

_ He widened his eyes and stared at her for a moment almost in shock. _

_ “How can you ask me such a thing?” _

_ “I'm just asking. You know a lot about me, you've been spying on me for months. I know almost nothing about you.” _

_ “Do you really think I have someone in Moscow waiting for me? What kind of man do you think I am?” _

_ His voice wasn't angry, but almost hurt. _

_ She tried to justify herself, but basically things between them weren't clear, she didn't know how to define the “thing” between them, she didn't even know how long this “thing” would last. _

_ “Well you're a spy, lying is your job-” _

_ “I've never lied to you. I already told you that.” _

_ “But you also told me that there are some things you can't tell me. And I don't know anything about your life in Moscow,” _

_ “And so you thought that since I'm a spy, the way I behave with you is just a game or something like that.” _

_ “I'm not saying that we aren’t friends or that you don't really care about me,” she tried to defend herself. _

_ “So, we are friends? Do friends behave as we do?” his tone seemed increasingly hurt, “Do you behave like that with all your friends?” _

_ She was not ready to face this situation yet.  _

_ “I don't know what we are,” she didn't even have the courage to look him in the face anymore, so she looked down, and stared at her hands. _

_ “You don't know,” now his voice sounded almost mechanical. _

_ She had noticed that sometimes when Illya was hurt, he hid behind a mask of coldness. But it had rarely happened when he was alone with her in the last few months. _

_ Gaby didn't know how to answer. But she knew she couldn't handle that conversation right now. She wasn’t able to define at that moment how she felt for him and she especially wasn’t ready to confess her feelings to him. _

_ “Well we have a special relationship, but I still don't know what it is exactly.” In the end, that was what she really felt. His gaze was still absent, between the wounded and the glacial. _

_ It was impressive how his eyes could change from being calm and serene like clear river water to being cold and sharp as ice. _

_ They were silent for what seemed a very long time to her, it was torture, but she couldn't get up and leave. _

_ “No. No one is waiting for me in Moscow,” he finally broke the uncomfortable silence that had fallen in the room, “My life for years was as you see it now. Work. Only work.” _

_ She felt guilty for making him face that private subject. But she still wanted to know more about him. _

_ “I'm sorry,” she sighed, trying to find the right words. “I shouldn't have asked you anything. It's just that you know a lot about my past and my life. And I don't know anything about you. But I didn't want to be intrusive.” _

_ In that moment she looked into his eyes and saw his cold expression fading, and his gaze softened. _

_ “Tsk. It’s okay. You had the right to ask me. I don't want you to think this thing between us is a game for me.” _

_ It was the closest thing to a confession she could ever imagine. “It's not a game to me. It's not,” he continued, in a serious tone. _

_ She felt herself blush violently, and she couldn't say anything for a few moments. _

_ “It's not a game to me either.” It was the only thing she managed to say. _

_ They looked at each other without saying anything for a few minutes.  _

_ They both knew that saying something now would be risky. It was too early to try to define their relationship, or perhaps it was too late. Perhaps they had already embarked on a path that would change their lives forever. _

_ “Okay, so no one is waiting for you at home, in Russia. But what about past relationships? Have you had any serious affairs in the past?” _

_ He gave her a look between shocked and amused. _

_ “Don’t look at me like that! You know mine! You also overheard them. I have the right to know a little bit of your private life. So we are even. So? No ex-girlfriends?” _

_ “I'm a spy, not a monk,” he answered, rolling his eyes. “Obviously I've been in relationships in the past. One serious relationship.” _

_ She was surprised by his statement, she herself had romantic relationships in the past, but she would never have defined them as “serious”. _

_ “Did you love her?” she blurted out. _

_ “Yes,” he said, camly. _

_ Gaby felt an unpleasant sensation rise in her chest. It was deep and annoying jealousy. _

_ “What about her? Did she love you?” _

_ He laughed softly. “No, I don't think she ever loved me,” then he lowered his gaze and his voice became lower, “And anyway I wasn't a very good boyfriend. I neglected her too much, I was always traveling. I lied to her because of work. She had a lot of good reasons to leave me.” _

_ Her jealousy increased at the thought that he had loved this woman so much and that perhaps she was still in his heart, in his dreams.  _

_ “Do you miss her? Do you still love her?” she asked him suddenly, and she regretted it a second after asking. _

_ He was surprised by her questions, but smiled softly at her.  _

_ “No. I've changed a lot since then. I’m a different man. And honestly I don't even know if it was really love anymore. I see things very differently now.” _

_ Gaby was dying to know what he really meant to say, but she was already emotionally drained from their discussion. She wasn't used to speaking openly about her feelings. So she decided to get up from his bed and go back to her bedroom.  _

_ “I think I'm going to sleep now. I'm very tired. Goodnight Illya,” she said as she leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. _

_ “Goodnight, милая моя (my sweetness)” he took her hand, and then whispered in her ear “and please don't ever show this sweet side of you to anyone but me.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter Thanksgiving and Xmas time ! More jealousy! More Fluff! And some new characters!   
> And a cute surprise.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to write a story with a bit of action, and a lot of fluff and slow burn. I hope you liked. Next chapters are full of events!!


End file.
